


Captive Fire

by molmcmahon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Dragons, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molmcmahon/pseuds/molmcmahon
Summary: When Eddard Stark gets thrown in the dungeons, he finds another prisoner in the cell across from his. They talk, with the other man asking questions about his Ned’s family. Ned never learns the man’s name until the man, one Harry Potter, who fought with him in Greyjoy’s rebellion comes to call, rescuing Ned and the other prisoner. Only, their manner of escape is rather peculiar, seeing as it is escorted by dragons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own either GoT or HP. GRR Martin and JK Rowling owns them respectively.
> 
> I have created a facebook page for readers of my stories to ask questions, leave comments, anything like that. I will also be putting polls for pairings eventually on there too so feel free to like the page. And I will try my best to post updates on stories too.
> 
> Link here: https://www.facebook.com/molmcmahon/

Lord Eddard Stark fought right alongside his king, Robert Baratheon, steel clanging against steel. The ironborn were hardened warriors and pirates, choosing death in battle over surrender at each battle and on each island. Horses screamed and people yelled and shouted, dying all around them. Thoros of Myr was around here somewhere, his bewitched flaming sword cutting down man after man.

The kingsguard surrounded Robert, every one of them protecting the king. Ser Barristan Selmy fought alongside Jaime Lannister.

As the sun rose on the last battle of Balon’s failed rebellion, Ned could see bodies spread out everywhere. Bodies of Stark, Baratheon, Lannister, Tyrell bannermen were splayed together where they had fallen. The ironborn bodies numbered more, with their shields of the kraken fallen next to them. Ned heard a yell from one of the iron born, something along the lines of one of their princes falling in a fight and then there was a charge from the Grejoys and the others.

Instantly, the kingsguard closed ranks around the king and Ned made sure Robert was protected. Ice was bloody and was about to get more bloody as the day went on, cutting through the many raiders that made up the Iron born army. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he fought and exhaustion crept up through his body as he slipped in mud that was mostly blood. Howland Reed was no where to be seen in the battle and Ned hoped his friend was okay. Howland had readily agreed to accompany his liege lord, seeing as he knew that Ned was still not on the best of terms with Robert.

It seemed that the ironborn were trying to herd him away from the king, away from any friends or any of his bannermen. The Greyjoys of Pyke yelled and shouted in their own language as Ned cut down two and three more took their place. He distantly registered a slash to his thigh and cut down the offending man as blood slipped down his leg. He swayed in place and saw the mace too late as it was brought down onto him. He tried to block it with Ice but in just a few seconds before it would connect with his head, the weapon and the person wielding it went flying back.

Power came flooding in around him and a man came charging up to stop next to him. The man, as Ned took a swipe at the closest iron born and then took a look at the person who had saved his life, had untamed black hair and dark green eyes. Eyes that glowed.

“Careful there!” the man yelled then pulled out a blade that had come out of nowhere and struck at the closest opponent. The blade looked similar enough to valyrian steel that Ned thought that the man was a Lord of some house but he didn’t recognize him as anyone from the North or from the south. Sickly green light flashed out at three Greyjoys farther away and they immediately keeled over with sightless eyes. Ned’s eyes widened and then the battle continued, only with Ned occasionally having to duck out the way as the man threw out words in a foreign language.

 

* * *

 

 

The battle lasted until late morning and Ned watched as Balon Greyjoy bent the knee to Robert Baratheon. Balon’s only remaining son, Theon, stood behind the throne, shaking with fear. Ned sighed and sheathed Ice, listening to Robert as he made demands of Balon. Fortunately, the Lannisters had no bannermen or sworn shields in this battle and thus, couldn’t butcher another royal family.

He saw the man who had aided him on the battle field stand quietly at the back of the hall, alongside Howland Reed. The sword that the man had used was strapped to his back and the man’s green eyes weren’t glowing anymore. It almost gave Ned cause to think that he had imagined it.

“You will give us your son, to keep as a hostage,” Robert was saying. “Lest you get anymore ideas about rebellion.”

Ned walked over to where Theon was standing and crouched down. “Hello, Theon. Would you mind coming with me? I’m Lord Stark.”

Theon shook, his legs near trembling.

“Get boy,” Balon shouted, turning to his only remaining son. Balon’s tone was harsh, unforgiving, like everything that had gone wrong was Theon’s fault.

Theon shook his head, his grey eyes gone wide with fear.

“Theon, come,” Ned spoke quietly.

“I’ll take him back to the ship,” Howland said, walking up to him.

“Thanks,” Ned remarked, watching as Robert turned to him and came over. Ned also watched as Howland scooped up Theon and heard Theon’s heartwrenching cries as they went.

“Almost as bad as the dragonspawn,” Robert said, staring after Theon and Howland. Ned chose to ignore that word, remembering Robert gleefully looking down at the bodies of Aegon and Rhaenys after the Sack of King’s Landing. “Ned, you said you wanted me to meet someone?”

Ned turned around to look back at the man who had saved his life. He caught the man’s eyes and gestured for him to walk over to them. The man narrowed his green eyes but dipped his head, walking over to them in a graceful way, almost like he was a Braavosi water dancer.

“Lord Stark?”

The man’s voice was curious and foreign, almost like a Valyrian accent but Ned had never heard a man speak like that.

“What is your name?” Ned asked.

“Harry Potter.”

“Strange name. Which house are you from? You’re probably from Essos more like,” Robert responded, looking the man over. “Well, I have yet to knight Jorah Mormont and Jacelyn Bywater. I can knight him at the same time.”

“Knight?” Harry repeated, his eyes flicking between Ned and Robert wearily. “Your Grace, I-”

“Nonsense. You saved Ned’s life,” Robert interrupted. “It’s no small thing. You put a dent into these Ironborn too.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Thanks,” Ned spoke as he watched his bannermen walk up and into the ship that was bound for home. Ser Harry James Potter, stood next to him in the foggy morning. It was chilly but not too cold. Not as cold as it would be in the next few years since winter was here. It was lucky that the siege at Pyke had lasted for only a few days. As it was, Ned had to get home and quick to ready the North.

“You didn’t mention anything of my magic to the king,” Harry commented idly. Ned had found out that Harry was 25, one year younger than him, and had been traveling the world for a while. But Ned had yet to figure out where exactly Harry originated from.

“Robert… is not a man you mention that to,” Ned replied quietly. “He speaks of the Targaryens as dragonspawn and is quick to think poorly of anyone who talks of strange things.”

“Ah… I have heard of the Targaryens,” Harry offered. “Their dragons were something to behold, I hear.”

“If you had come to Westeros eight years before and had visited King’s Landing, you would have seen the dragon skulls in the red keep,” Ned responded. “They were magnificent.”

“It all ended at Rhaegar Targaryen’s death, or so I hear,” Harry muttered. “His brother and sister are still moving about Essos.”

Ned’s eyes widened. “You have met Rhaegar’s siblings?”

“I ran into them, yes,” Harry said, shrugging. “The girl is rather timid, fearful. I made sure to drop off a random bag of gold with them before I left.”

Ned sighed and looked up to see Theon standing by the railing of the ship. The boy was scared of everything and everyone now, unsure of his standing. “You are welcome to come with me back to Winterfell.”

Harry turned to look at him. “I may join you on your ship but I may not stay in Winterfell for too long. I like to travel.”

“Ser Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“What is your magic, anyway?” Ned asked. “I have never heard or seen its likeness before.”

“That’s because I’m not from around here,” Harry explained then Ned watched the other man walked over the plank and onto the ship.

 

 

* * *

 

And so it was. Every few years, Ser Harry James Potter ventured back into Winterfell. He met little Robb and Jon, with whom Harry had raised a quizzical eyebrow to Ned, and then eventually he met little Sansa and Arya, baby Bran and Rickon too. Lady Catelyn appreciated hearing that Harry had saved Ned’s life in the battle but was apprehensive about the man. The fact that Harry never seemed to grow older made Catelyn suspicious, knowing of the strange tales of the far North.

She spoke about it in length to Ned a fair few times, saying that she wasn’t too sure about Ser Harry. Ned had said that the man was a friend to him and the subject was done. Harry always enjoyed coming to Winterfell and seeing the kids, taking a liking to Arya and Jon.

Over time, Ned and Harry grew to be close friends, with Harry leaving him a notebook to write in, in case Ned ever needed help with something. Be it a bad winter or raiding by wildlings. Ned wrote in it and Harry wrote back, writing descriptions of wherever he was at the time if Ned wasn’t asking for advice. Sometimes, it was Essos and other times it was Dorne, in which Harry spoke of the Red Viper and his seductions. Ned’s cheeks had reddened at that entry in Harry’s book and he knew it was just playful on Harry’s part, trying to get a rise out of Ned. Other times it was to places that Ned had only ever heard of. Sothoryos or Lys or Volantis. It was once occasionally the Basilisk Isles that Harry wrote about and Ned had laughed once or twice at Harry’s commentary.

_These isles deserve their name, Ned. I once fought a real basilisk and it was fully grown, almost 60 feet in length, unlike the basilisks in this world, and that was something. I've seen a basilisk here and it pales in comparison to the one where I came from._

Or something like this:

_Ned, you do know that I know who Jon’s real parents are, right? Even if everyone else doesn’t see it. I see it. You’re a Stark through and through. Maybe we should rescue his aunt and uncle. Though, the few times I’ve seen Viserys Targaryen, he seems like he really is Aerys’ son from what I’ve heard of the man. Mayhap we should just keep an eye on Daenerys._

He had written back something like:

_Harry, would you keep an eye on Daenerys? I would feel better if someone was keeping an eye out for them. They did not deserve this, to be hunted and on the run like common criminals._

Or he had written to Harry about the direwolves and asked for his opinion.

_Eh, I see no harm in letting your children adopt them. Strange magic is in play here and I suspect… I might have had something to do with it but I am not too sure. Have you heard of wargs or skinchangers? The wildlings have them. You write of each wolf imprinting on the children. They might be wargs… Let me know if your children have any questions about it or talk about having wolf dreams._

And when Ned received word that Robert and his family were coming to Winterfell, he wrote Harry. They had just recently learned of Jon Arryn’s death and Ned was cautious, having received Lysa’s letter about the Lannisters. He hadn’t heard from the man, wizard, or whatever he preferred to be called, in a while and just wanted to let him know.

_Ned, be careful. I can’t come now for various reasons but let me know how that visit goes. I’m in Valyria right now and the wonders here are incredible. The rumors about it being dangerous to get to are true but I’m okay. I would not… The last time I came back to Westeros, I visited King’s Landing and took a peek at the crown prince. You would do well not to agree to a marriage with one of your daughters to him. He might even be worse than Aerys. If trouble finds you, use those portkeys I gave you last time I visited. They might come in handy for something._

The first night that King Robert Baratheon was in Winterfell, Ned stayed awake in bed with Cat. He pondered Harry’s words and luckily, he had read them before the king had arrived. Robert had proposed marriage between Joffrey and Sansa, as a way to join their houses. He hadn’t really noticed or studied Joffrey at dinner time but he had seen him watching Tommen spar with Robb. He had seen Joffrey laugh at his younger brother, with Joffrey sneering at Tommen.

“Ned?” Catelyn asked, rolling over in bed and raising an eyebrow. “What are you thinking of, dear?”

“Robert wants to join our houses with marriage,” Ned whispered. “He suggested Joffrey and Sansa.”

“Did you say yes? Sansa would be quite happy with that match,” Catelyn remarked, her lips twitching up into a grin.

Ned shook his head. “I did not.”

Catelyn’s eyes widened. “Why ever not?”

“Harry wrote something in the book,” Ned spoke. “He said he had gone to visit King’s Landing and had walked away with a vastly unfavorable opinion of the crown prince.”

“Seven hells, Ned. Harry says this and that and you still listen to him? I don’t trust his magic,” Catelyn said, frowning.

“He said that Joffrey could be worse than Aerys,” Ned offered quietly. “I do not want our daughter to be married to that kind of man.”

Catelyn went silent at that, thinking. “Mayhap, you can suggest Myrcella for Robb? I know the princess is young but we can wait. Robb can wait.”

“Alright, little Cat,” Ned spoke, grinning and pulling her into a hug. “I will suggest it. I already… Are you sure you are okay with me going south to be Robert’s new hand?”

“I’m tolerating it,” Catelyn murmured, her nose wrinkling. “The South is not a good place for us.”

“I will be safe,” Ned said. “I know Arya and Sansa are upset that they’re not going but with Ser Harry’s letter, I do not think sending them to court right now is a good option. I could ask someone to come up North to tutor Arya.”

Catelyn frowned. “Ned, she needs to learn how to be a proper lady and that is not learning to swordfight.”

“My sister learned,” Ned replied. “I was glad she was able to protect herself.”

“Your sister is not here with us.”

“You know as well as I do that Arya usually eventually gets what she wants,” Ned responded, wrapping his arms around Catelyn to ward away the sudden chill that he felt. She returned the sentiment, snuggling into his arms. He was unsure whether that was anxiety about going south, where none of his siblings had returned, or the weather. The hot springs of Winterfell were still working so mayhap it was something else. “I could write to Ser Harry about Sansa. Perhaps Doran Martell has a son that he can marry to a Stark.”

Catelyn gasped. “So far though!

 _“_ Doran Martell is a good man,” Ned tried. “Even though his sister and his sister’s family is dead, he does not bear a grudge against us. And I think Ser Loras has other proclivities.”

Catelyn frowned and pulled away. “The Dornish are strange people!”

“Our oldest daughter is strong,” Ned said. “I think she would do well in Dorne.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Ser Harry, if you would not mind, would you send a letter to Doran Martell? I would ask him if he has a son for Sansa and perhaps a tutor for Arya in swordfighting. I do not trust anyone from the South but a Dornish knight perhaps would be acceptable._

Harry wrote back a few days later, finally resurfacing from wherever he had been in Valyria. Ned wondered what the man was seeing there, if it was indeed islands of fire. He had guessed that Harry had gone there to look at the ruins and maybe look at the ruins to see if there were left over scrolls of the dragonlord magic.

_I will gladly get word to Doran. I know he has a son, Quentyn Martell, who is the older after Arianne Martell. Arianne is the heir to Sunspear so Quentyn would be… available, so to speak. I should be on my way back to Westeros in a few months so be safe in King’s Landing. I will also see about getting a tutor for Arya. She’s much like your sister, isn’t she? What did you call it, the wolf blood? Arya Stark will be a handful during her teenage years._

_You said Jon was going to the Wall? Why in the seven… Tell him to be safe. It’s… Magic is coming back to the world and I don’t think it will be very boring at the Wall in the coming years. Winter is coming, I can sense it. And if I can do that, the natural magic of the world is rising._ _I don’t like it but then again, I did contribute to it. There was an accident two years ago and well… Everything will change when I go back to Westeros._

Ned raised an eyebrow at Harry’s last sentence, wondering what the wizard had gotten into. He would ask him when Harry arrived back in Westeros in a few months.

 

 

* * *

 

 

An hour before Ned left Winterfell with King Robert a week later, he pulled Robb aside. Grey Wind was standing next to Robb, looking between them with lit up eyes. The direwolves were now tall enough to reach his children’s waists and still growing. Catelyn was still at Bran’s bedside, praying to the Faith for their son’s life. Ned had written Harry the morning after Bran had fallen and had asked if he could come and see if he could heal Bran. Ned had seen Harry tend to at least a few Stark bannermen at the siege of Pyke and knew he was a proficient healer. Or whatever he called it. He knew that Harry didn’t call himself a maester.

Robb looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Father?”

“I need to show you something, Robb,” Ned murmured, gesturing for Robb to follow him into his solar. He hadn’t shown any of his children Harry’s book but with him leaving, Ned needed someone to know of its existence, in case something went wrong.

“A journal?” Robb questioned. “It looks like the book you use to keep track of our expenses. You showed it to me a few years ago.”

“It’s not,” Ned remarked, picking it up and opening it to the latest page. “It only looks that way because Harry spelled it to look like it.”

“Spelled?” Robb repeated. “Like… magic? Is this like the old magic that came with the dragons?”

“I have told you about my friend that saved my life when Theon’s father rebelled?”

“Yes… Ser Harry Potter? What about him?”

“He is a wizard, like the Rhoynar water wizards of old but far more powerful,” Ned explained. “I have been writing to him for advice all these years and he mentioned something about Joffrey. He saidthat I might… Sansa might not like being married to the crown prince.”

Robb’s eyes widened as he looked between the book and down to where the girls rooms were. “That’s why you suggested that I marry Myrcella when she’s older. Because what Ser Harry said.”

Ned nodded. “I trust Ser Harry with important matters, just like I trust you as my heir.”

Robb grinned.

“I will be making preparations for the wedding when I am in King’s Landing,” Ned spoke, smiling hesitantly. “Myrcella Baratheon has been known to have a gentle heart. I think you two will do fine. However, the letter from your Aunt Lysa...”

“It concerns you and mother,” Robb said. “I heard you two talking about it.”

Lord Eddard Stark nodded, turning to look over to where King Robert was getting ready to ride south. Robert was insisting on riding on horse back, instead of riding with his family in the carriage. He was blaming everyone other than himself when none of the horses were big enough to carry him. Ned sighed and turned back to his son. “I will investigate matters in the south and whether or not Lysa was telling the truth and why Jon Arryn died. In case something goes wrong though, write to Ser Harry through the notebook. He can give good advice. Anyway, he is planning on arriving here in the next few months to see if he can help Bran.”

Robb’s eyes widened. “You think something will happen?”

“No. You just need to be prepared and I will appreciate it if I know you have someone to go to for advice.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

A few months later, Ned was arrested and thrown in the dungeons. Jory Cassel was dead and so was the rest of his house hold that he had brought with him to King’s Landing. King Robert Baratheon was dead and Petyr Baelish had betrayed him. Cersei had imprisoned him, her lion’s claws coming out to protect her bastard children. He was grateful that his children were not in King’s Landing, grateful to Harry for warning him of at least Prince Joffrey’s nature. Still, he had not expected Robert to die or for Robert to be murdered by the queen. He had not expected Baelish to betray him but granted, he may have been rusty at the courtly intrigue.

He cursed loudly at a particularly bad inset of pain and the nerves in his leg felt like they were on fire. He tried to move around a little, alleviate it but to no avail.

His leg still hurt, throbbing each time he moved around. The chains around his wrist clinked when he moved to attempt to fall asleep. It was also hard to tell whether it was day or night here. It was cold and dank, spider webs strewn all around and not a sound was heard. There was no light around for what seemed like miles and no other person around for-

“Hello?”

Ned started, his eyes widening at the hoarse tone. It had sounded like it was coming from across the hall, near the end of the tunnel in the dungeons. “Is someone there?”

“Please...”

“I’m here,” Ned finally spoke, his voice hoarse also from lack of water. Though the person, who was most certainly a male, was also hoarse. The man almost sounded like he was half dead, like the effort of speaking was too much. There were significant gaps between the man’s words and Ned flinched when he heard a distinct whine or whimper. “Where are you?”

“At the end of the hall… Who are you?”

“Eddard Stark. Who are you?”

“Eddard Stark? Lyanna Stark’s brother?”

Ned raised an eyebrow. Mayhap the man was a servant or one of the smallfolk but he didn’t expect Joffrey or Cersei to care about one of the smallfolk enough to throw them this deep in the dungeons. Though, he had already underestimated Cersei’s willingness to protect her children. Maybe it was one of the smallfolk…

“Yes, I’m Lyanna’s brother,” Eddard replied quietly, raising his voice just enough to be heard by the other man. “How long have you been here?”

Ned waited a while for an answer and finally thought he had offended the man somehow, but the other man spoke what felt like an hour later. The other prisoner started to speak than coughed, falling into a fit that lasted a while. Ned flinched at listening to the other man. The captive was probably ill with some sickness, maybe even dying.

“… I’m sorry.”

Ned’s eyes widened. “You’re sorry? For what? I don’t think I’ve ever met you before. You do not sound familiar.”

“We have met. Once. At a tourney that seems like it was a long time ago. I don’t exactly know how much time has passed since I was put in here.”


	2. Chapter 2

Robb stared at the letter in his hands, feeling his hands, his whole body start to shake. Theon stood next to him, reading over his shoulder. Maester Luwin stood in front of them, a frown on his face.

“What are you going to do?” Theon asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“I should call the banners,” Robb spoke, glancing to Maester Luwin to see what he thought. His lady mother was away, heading towards the Vale the last they had heard and he didn’t want anything to happen to his father. With his father’s best friend and king dead, he wouldn’t have anyone to speak for him in King’s Landing. “My father is innocent in this matter, I know it.”

“You could write Ser Harry,” Theon whispered. “That is what Eddard did say to do.”

“He didn’t think he would get arrested for treason,” Robb retorted but sighed. “You’re right though. My father did say Ser Harry was on his way anyway to see what he could do for Bran.”

Robb stood up and gestured to Theon to come with him, with Grey Wind already standing up from where he was curled at Robb’s feet. “Luwin, don’t call the banners just yet. I need to ask my father’s friend for advice.”

“Very well. Wise plan, I should think.”

Robb walked up a flight of stairs and down the hall to where his father’s solar was, nudging open the door. Theon stopped at the doorway as Robb walked in, crossing his arms. Robb raised an eyebrow at Theon. Theon shook his head.

“I don’t want to go into your father’s solar, Robb,” Theon muttered.

Robb grinned and looked around for the journal that Ned had shown him. He grabbed a quill and ink and sat down to write.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Ser Harry, this is Robb Stark. My father said I should write to you if something has happened to him and something did happen. He has been accused of treason in King’s Landing. We received letters from Grand Maester Pycelle and Baelish that say Eddard tried to take the throne from Robert and that he conspired to have Robert killed and that Ned tried to remove Prince Joffrey from the throne afterward. My father is now in the dungeons. I don’t believe either one of them but I don’t know what to do. Should I call the banners or shall I wait for your arrival?_

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he read what Robb wrote, his magic flaring around him in circles. _Treason?_ _Ned Stark_? He rolled his eyes, wishing he had been at Winterfell when King Robert had been there. He had just relied on what Ned had told him of the visit and he hadn’t liked what he had read.

A loud squawk drew him from his thoughts and he looked up, glaring at the offending creature who had startled him.

“Hela! Stop badgering your brothers!” Harry yelled, staring at the three fully grown dragons before him. They were each two years old and big enough to ride but they would never stop growing, according to the scrolls he had read in Valyria. The dragons stopped play fighting with each other and landed in front of him, all three of them staring at him in pleading adoration.

Harry snorted, drawing out three separate hunks of meat from his bag and throwing them at the creatures. The three dragons gobbled them up readily and then took to the air again, flying in loops or downward spirals. Hela, the only female dragon, at least Harry thought she was female, was a dark green. Zeus was a golden color, almost blinding when the sun hit him, with white frills. The last one, Anubis, was dark blue, almost cobalt blue.

It had been an accident two years ago that had caused the eggs that he had found to hatch. He had been meditating near one of the rivers of lava that made up Valyria and had accidentally floated one of them into the lava. The egg had cracked and had startled him out of his thoughts, opening his eyes to see that there was a dragon sticking its head out of the egg. And thus he had become parent to three dragons, quite accidentally. He had discovered later on few drops of blood from his earlier meal at the time and had realized that the eggs had hatched from both the heat and the blood combined.

Harry watched as the dragons continued to play in the last light of the day before looking west. He was just on the tip of Westeros, having started the trek when Ned had written of Bran's injury. The Wall was just a few miles north of him and Winterfell just a few more miles to the south. With this new information though, he figured he would go south now. Go to King's Landing first and rescue Ned before going back up to Winterfell. He wondered what everyone would think of him now, now that he had three dragons following him. He probably would be the first non Targaryen person to have ever flown or hatched dragons.

He snorted, imagining the looks of the Lannisters when they caught sight of the dragons. From what Robb had said, Prince Joffrey would presumably become the next king on the throne. Unless... He wondered what Ned had gotten himself into and why he had gotten thrown in the dungeons.

Anubis bellowed out in alarm, drawing Harry from his thoughts. There were riders on the horizon and Harry winced, putting the journal on the ground and hissing out an urgent order in parseltoungue. Normally, if it wasn't urgent, Harry would have just spoken in english but he wanted to keep the presence of the dragons quiet. Or as much as he could. He could have sworn that he had felt the wild magic that emanated from dragon eggs somewhere over the Dothraki sea as they had flown over it.

"Return!"

All three dragons hovered in the air briefly, their wings beating energetically, before turning around and racing back towards him. Harry grinned wearily at their looks before casting notice-me-not spells on them as they landed before him. Anubis quietly stuck his head into Harry's face as the other two walked over to him. He laughed and nudged the dragon away.

The riders rode through the hills just a mile away, none the wiser. Harry let the dragons go fly where they wanted a few minutes after he couldn't hear hoofbeats anymore than settled down to start dinner. As he waited for his meat to cook, he wrote back to Robb.

 _Robb, I would suggest alerting some of the more loyal lords. Maybe Howland Reed and Lord Hoster Tully, your mother's father. At the very least, get them to head off any Lannister forces that attempt to make their way north._ _I’m not saying any would but be cautious._ _Starting a war right now would probably be a very bad idea but if it comes to fighting, stay in the North. I just arrived on the coast and will plan on going to investigate what happened to your father. If all goes well, I'll make my way north with Lord Stark in a few days._

 

* * *

 

 

"Lord... Stark-"

Ned coughed, hearing the other prisoner do the same. Though over the past few days, it had sounded like the man had grown worse. The other man's words had gotten fainter as time passed and Ned was worried. No one had seemed to even know who the other man was. Varys hadn't even known what Eddard was talking about when the master of whispers had come to talk to him and Ned had gotten the distinct impression that Varys had been bewildered, eyes widening and then narrowing when Ned had brought up the topic. He hadn't even seen anyone go toward where the man's voice was coming from since he had been thrown in the dungeons.

"Don't talk if it hurts to," Ned said, raising his voice in order to be heard. It had in theory been a few days and still, Ned hadn't learned who the man was. All that he knew was that the man had been in the dungeons for a long time and had gotten tortured in the first few years. And it had been years since the man had seen daylight. Ned knew that much. The other man wasn't even aware of any of the children that Robert had had, or not had.

Ned had sworn under his breath when he had made the realization that Myrcella, Joffrey and Tommen weren't trueborn. And then it hadn't taken him that long to connect the dots after that. The king's sons were in fact Jaime's and Cersei's. He sighed, remembering talking with Renly in the evening after Robert had died. Maybe he should have taken Renly's idea to heart. But it was too late now. At least he was alone in King's Landing. He didn't want to think about the possibility of Arya and Sansa here. Thankfully, Harry had written soon enough that Ned could listen to his ideas.

 


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Harry could see King's Landing, he urged Anubis to slow down. The big black dragon underneath him growled and let loose a jet of flame up into the air before slowing the beat of his wings. Hela and Zeus did too, though without the very visible display of power. Harry whispered a notice-me-not charm and spelled it to cover all three dragons and himself before flying further. The stink of the city more then announced the fact that they were flying over the capital before Harry could see the city.

He whispered orders to Anubis and felt the dragon flex his muscles before descending from the clouds. It was midnight, a few days since he had written back to Robb. The only natural light was the moon shining down on them and the light from the fires down in the city. In the past, if he had traveled back and fourth from Winterfell to King's Landing, it would take at least a week. Now, on dragon back, it took only three days.

They dropped deeper and deeper down onto the city until Harry told the dragons to hover. Anubis bellowed quietly and Harry rolled his eyes, hoping that people would mistake that noise for drums, before looking for the Red Keep and its courtyard. Hopefully, the three creatures would understand the need for quiet or at least until he signaled them. When he had gotten Ned out of the dungeons, he planned on removing the disillusionment spells remotely, thus creating a diversion when people realized that there were three fully grown dragons in the courtyard.

Hela and Zeus growled loudly, each of them turning their heads toward him before looking downward. Harry heard a few startled whinnies from horses down below and crossed his fingers in the hope that he wouldn't draw too much attention until the right moment.

"I know," Harry muttered, feeling the urge to pinch his nose shut too. If he was ever contemplating living in King's Landing in the future, he would totally improve the sewers in the city and he probably wouldn't stop at the sewers either. "We won't be here for long hopefully. Now let me off so I can go fetch our wayward wolf."

Anubis lowered some more, skimming the rooftops of the barracks of the Red Keep before finally landing in the middle of the courtyard. Hela and Zeus landed next to him, though there was a good amount of space between them for the wings since their wingspan covered at least two house lengths. Harry had found a scroll, a halfway burned scroll, that had said that Targaryen dragons never stopped growing. His eyes had widened so much at that piece of information; dragons back in England had stopped growing at roughly two years old.

Harry slid off, landing on the cobbled street with a quiet thunk. Anubis shook, his wings beating once, twice before landing on the ground once again. There weren't as many people walking around in the courtyard as he would have thought but there were definitely more than a few Lannister bannermen patrolling the yard and the walls. And rightly so since King Robert had died. The death of a king was a big deal though it wasn't like Harry would ever grieve Robert. The man hadn't made a good king, in his opinion.

Ned had even described what Robert had looked like when the king had seen the bodies of Rhaegar's children. Harry had blanched at Eddard's description. Rhaenys and little Aegon had been kids and the Lannisters had killed them. If Harry had been around at that time, he didn't think he would have been able to stand there and do nothing while a king gloated about the fact that his opponent's children were dead.

Harry stepped around the dragons and glared at them, knowing that Hela had a mischievous streak a mile wide. He probably shouldn’t have named the dragon after a daughter of Loki but the name had seemed to fit her well.

"No killing anything," Harry muttered, repeating the order in parseltongue. "And no burning anything either. Just stay here and avoid people unless it's me."

Anubis stretched out his neck to hover over Harry and kind of leaned against him. Harry stroked the dragon's nose and snout then walked off, wand drawn. Harry quietly ventured into the halls of the Red Keep, avoiding any guards and bannermen and reached the throne room. He stopped and looked around, imagining it from how Ned had said it looked like pre-rebellion. The dragon skulls were long gone and were replaced with tapestries of Baratheon and Lannister families. He sighed and walked on, sneaking through an open door and avoiding Prince Joffrey, or well, he supposed soon to be King Joffrey.

He wrinkled his nose at the thought and wished that he could hex the young man without... He grinned, realizing that he could probably get away with it without consequence. He drew his wand and muttered one of the nastier hexes, willing it to be invisible and time dependent. Harry and Ned would be far away from here once it took effect and he grinned wider when he imagined what everyone would think of the crown prince.

Harry kept on walking down, taking stairs when he could and casting a location spell for Ned. The light of the spell directed him to the down most dungeons, which even he hadn't known existed. There was not one spec of light that he could see other than a few torches held up by cradles on the wall as he went by and then by the time he could see Ned, there was nothing lighting up the stone dungeon.

Lord Eddard Stark was chained up in the middle of the hallway, his right leg crooked at an awkward angle. Harry glanced behind him, put a ward up across the narrow aisle, one that would alert him of any people coming close and removed the notice-me-not charm on himself.

"Ned?"

Harry walked over to his first friend in this world and crouched down in front of him, spelling a witch light into existence. The light dimmed at his thought and hovered above them, letting Harry see the infected wound on Ned's leg. The other man also looked horrible, with bags underneath his eyes and pale skin.

Ned finally looked up at him after Harry shook him awake and he watched as Ned's eyes widened. Surprise lit his eyes then a kind of mute joy entered Ned's grey eyes.

"Harry?"

"Robb wrote me," Harry whispered, spelling the chains holding Ned to the wall apart and open. The chains landed with a loud clink to the stone and Ned winced. "Change of plans is easy since my mode of transportation has changed."

Ned tried to stand up, unsuccessfully. Harry slipped an arm around the other man's waist and helped him up, taking a look at the wound on Ned's leg. "However, Robb didn't tell me that you were injured. Or why you were thrown in the dungeons."

"My people have all been killed," Ned started, coughing a little. Harry pulled out a water canteen and held it out, letting the other man drink. "The Kingslayer wounded me when he received word that my wife has taken the Imp hostage."

Harry's eyes widened then he shrugged, reaching into his potion kit for a fever reducer. Ned was burning up and it was due to his injury not being well tended to for the past week. "Well, at least Robb followed my advice."

Ned raised an eyebrow.

"I told him to not call the banners but to just alert them."

Ned nodded and was about to say something else when he stiffened. "Ser Harry, there is someone else in here. He's kept me company during this and he's in need of a maester, or whatever you call yourself."

"Healer works fine," Harry idly replied, handing out the potion vial. "Drink that. It'll push your fever down. Now, where is he? Have you seen him?"

"I don't know where he is but he's close," Ned muttered, taking a sip of the potion and wrinkling his nose at the taste. "Must these be foul tasting?"

Harry grinned and floated the witch light further into the hallway, looking for the man that Ned said was here. "What's he in for?"

"He's never said," Ned whispered, pulling away from Harry and more or less supporting himself. "I've never gotten his name."

Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You sure he's not in here for murder?"

"That is not the impression that I have gotten from him," Ned replied. "He's been in here a while though and no one seems to remember him."


	4. Chapter 4

Harry nodded idly and walked along the dungeon hall, heading deeper into the stone hall. Cobwebs littered the ceiling and the corners, growing in density until they reached the end of the hall. Thanks to the witch light, Harry was able to see the door inset in the wall to the right. Otherwise, he would have thought there was nothing and no one here. It was that dark.

"He sounded like he was dying," Ned murmured, glancing at the door in what was poorly hidden curiosity. It was a wooden door so Ned knew that the man's voice would have an easy time traveling through it.

Harry withdrew his wand, the elder wand, and whispered a quiet unlocking charm. He was about to cast a spell to unlock the door when the elder wand sparked in his hand. His eyes widened as he peered at it. The wand known as the Deathstick warmed in his hand and he could have sworn that he felt some kind of... emotion from it but wands didn't have any emotion... Harry stared at it for a few seconds in bewilderment before Ned cleared his throat and Harry could hear some pain underneath that noise so he turned his attention back to the occupant of the cell in front of them.

The door swung inward and they both heard the almost muted groan from within. Though the noise that the man had made could probably be construed as a whimper. Harry walked into the cell and stopped almost as soon as he was through the door, his stomach churning at the sight that met them.

The man in the cell almost wasn't recognizable as a human being. The stink coming from the man was indescribable and he couldn’t see any pale, untouched skin even though there wasn’t much clothing on the man. Ned stayed leaning against the doorway while Harry padded into the cell, keeping quiet and finally kneeling in front of the man, whose head was down like a wilted flower. It was impossible to tell how old the man was or even who he was.

There were bruises everywhere that Harry could see, some in the shape of hands around the man’s neck. The bruises were varying in range from yellow to purple, making the man’s skin very colorful. There were slashes, some healed while others were old and some infected, yellow and pus filled. Dried blood was splayed everywhere from the man’s legs to underneath the tatters of the clothing that the man was wearing. Harry could also see the man's ribs outright through the material that was left and what he saw definitely didn't look good.

The man’s long hair reached down to his shoulder blades and Harry thought it was an outright miracle that it wasn’t longer. Maybe someone was coming in here and regularly cutting it? The man's hair was also so covered in filth that it was impossible to tell what color it was. A moan came from the man and Harry’s heart stopped in his chest at the utter pain that he heard.

He gently, ever so slowly reached out to cradle the man’s chin, tilting his head up. He could feel a shudder go through the man’s body at the touch, little tremors going through him as they stayed like that. The man’s eyes were closed, painfully so like the man had had multiple black eyes throughout the time he had been here. But Harry could get the sense that this man was staring at him without actually seeing him.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Ned spoke from the doorway. “Your dungeon partner. It’s to be a rescue.”

The man in front of him took such a deep breath that he descended into a coughing fit, rattling the chains that were keeping him restrained. And that was a part of the mystery. The man was chained so deeply to the wall of the dungeon that he could not move an inch. It was as though the man was feared for what he was but he didn’t look like a monster. Harry pulled out the water canteen that he had given to Ned and held it out, his left hand still holding the man’s head up.

"Drink. It's just water," Harry whispered, letting a drop or two of water land against the man's lips. The man moaned and opened his mouth slowly, as if he had learned to not trust anything that was held out to him. "It's truly water. I promise."

The man tried to open his eyes but it looked like they hurt too much and Harry heard a hoarse whimper. But he did take a few sips of water, letting Harry tip the canteen up. Harry looked the man over, staring at the chains in bewilderment, before whispering an unlocking charm. The chains rustled before breaking in half and falling to the stone floor with a loud thunk.

"You... have a strange accent," the man croaked out, his voice sounding just a little better now.

"That I do," Harry replied, catching the man as he fell and wrapping gentle arms around him. The former captive went limp in his arms, collapsing into Harry's quickly opened arms. He could feel the man's weak heartbeat and flinched. Harry would need to find a good, safe place to tend to the man's injuries soon or they would loose him. He glanced up at Ned, who looked as bewildered as he did. "We should go now. He needs immediate attention."

"Did he say his name?" Ned asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. Can you walk unaided?"

"I believe so," Ned replied, watching as Harry slowly stood up with the man in his arms. The former captive's head was in the crook of Harry's neck, as if the man was trying to get as much heat as possible. "Your potion did help with the fever. Thank you."

Harry dipped his head in a nod and led the way out, the witch light hovering above them. "Lord Stark, my... I did not come here on horseback."

"You sailed then."

"No, not quite," Harry remarked, as they walked up the set of stairs and over to the door to the rest of the Red Keep. He vanished the witch light, as he could see a speck of sunlight reaching through the cracks in the door. He peered down at the man in his arms, shifted his weight a little and stopped, repeating a spell in his mind. A thick length of soft cloth appeared in the air in front of him and he willed it to wind around the man's eyes. It wrapped itself around the man’s eyes like a blindfold then tied at the back of the man’s head. He had gotten the feeling that it had been a while since the man had seen sunlight and the injured eyes would not help now. "You scared of heights?"

"Actually..." Harry interrupted whatever Ned was about to say. Lord Eddard raised an eyebrow at the interruption but stayed quiet, listening. "It's probably best for you to take a portkey back to Winterfell. I'll join you later on. This man can't travel quickly."

"If you say you did not sail here and you did not come here on horseback, how did you travel here?"

Harry grinned and opened the door, stepping through. He saw Lannister bannermen immediately come to attention to the sudden appearance of Harry and Ned, pulling their swords out and brandishing them. Many more shouted the alarm and he could hear alarm bells ringing in the early morning light. The man in his arms whimpered and groaned, trying to squirm around. Harry reluctantly tightened his grip, loathe to make the man more upset, but he needed the man to be still. "Time for a diversion, don't you think?"

"Ser Harry... "

"Trust me. It's going to be quite fun."

Ned rolled his eyes but nodded as Harry remotely removed the disillusionment spells on the dragons. He knew instantly when the dragons realized they were visible, as roars were heard all throughout the building. Ned's eyes widened so much that Harry thought they were going to fall out of the man's head. Ned turned to look at Harry, eyes wide and mouth open in dismay.

"Are those roars what I think they are?"

"Depends," Harry replied, now grinning widely. More roaring led to the Lannister bannermen stopping in their tracks and turning around to go outside, deciding to leave Harry and Ned alone. Harry smiled and gestured to Ned to move. They hastened out of the dungeons and up the stairs to the throne room, where Prince Joffrey and his mother were just walking out. Harry enjoyed their looks of anger then urged Ned ahead, making sure to ward the both of them against any arrows. Though, he did catch a look from Cersei that he didn’t quite know what to make of. It was part possessive interest and part anger but Harry didn’t… It could be just because he was a trespasser in the keep but he couldn’t tell. He also could see the direction to which the looks were pointed at and it wasn’t at Ned or at him. Cersei’s looks were directed at the man in his arms...

"Mother, what is that noise?"

Harry smiled even wider as they all heard something thump against the rooftop of the Keep. Cersei gasped and Joffrey moved closer to his mother before Harry turned and made sure Ned was moving outside.

“Harry...” Ned trailed off as they finally made it outside to the courtyard. Harry was about to run into Ned as the other man stopped and stared, his grey eyes going wide. “What...”

“Dragons. Yes, I know,” Harry spoke over the din of people yelling, glancing at the various bannermen that were staring up at his dragon children in fear. He spotted Petyr Baelish backing up from where Hela stood, her wings spread to their full length. Smoke was coming out of her mouth and Baelish was sweating, from what Harry could see. Harry grinned and whistled, taking care to not jostle the man in his arms, as the three dragons all turned around and ran over to him. Ned continued to stare, his eyes growing wider. “Now, what I want to know… Portkey for you or a dragon ride?”

Ned’s jaw dropped as Harry gently maneuvered the man into standing up. The man whimpered and Harry shushed him, leaving one of his arms around the man’s waist as support. Zeus, the golden red dragon, walked over and lowered his head to nudge the man, who stiffened. Harry was about to nudge the dragon away, thinking that the man was scared and who wouldn’t be, when the man slowly held out a hand out in the direction of the dragon. Zeus snorted, huffing out smoke, and leaned into the man’s hand. Harry raised an eyebrow then glanced over at Ned, who was watching the situation with appraising eyes. The unnamed man gasped and then started to cough, blood dribbling out of his mouth.

“Will one of these animals accept me?” Ned questioned, narrowing his eyes. “I am no Targaryen and nor are you.”

Harry turned to watch Ned. “I am not. But I am a wizard. Anubis, you’ll take two?”

The dark blue dragon reared up and bellowed, breathing out a jet of hot flame into the air. Hela spewed some flame onto some Lannister bannermen who got too close and they screamed, running away in the other direction and continued to burn. The lion banner that they were each holding burned up instantly, turning into ashes. Zeus took a step closer and nudged Harry then seemed to gently lean into the unnamed man, clearly indicating that he would carry the man.

Harry nodded, watched as Zeus crouched onto the ground, then gently scooped up their unknown guest. The man leaned into his arms briefly, seeming to understand Harry’s meaning and not fighting him as Harry lifted him up and onto Zeus’ back.

“There’s no saddle for this one,” Harry whispered, running a few gentle fingers through the man’s filthy hair as he got the man settled. He also wiped the blood off of the man’s lips and chin and made sure the blindfold would stay on to protect his eyes, casting a monitoring charm on the man. Harry studied the man before summoning ropes to tie the man to the dragon, knowing that at some point during their travels, the man would loose the fight to sleep, as exhausted as he was. He had thought that the man had been half way to passing out before he had propped him up against him in the courtyard. The ropes tied around the man and went around the dragon’s belly, making Zeus twitch a little. “So hold on tight. Zeus, no acrobatics in the air, okay?”

The dragon grumbled, releasing some fire at one Lannister man that was holding a spear and was about to throw it. The man backed off hurriedly and Harry cast a blasting charm on the other people that had spread out around them. The kingsguard were still huddled around Cersei and Joffrey and Harry smirked at them. He wished King Robert had still been alive to witness this but no such luck.

The man startled a little at the ropes but relaxed at Harry’s hand on the small of his back. “Just to keep you on. Zeus, get going! Go north!”

Zeus roared loudly and took off, running a few feet before beating his wings and taking off into the air. Hela took off too but not without bowling over a few people and their horses. She ran directly toward Cersei and Joffrey, which caused the men of the kingsguard to draw their swords and step towards the dragon. Harry snorted and watched as Hela took off into the air just a few feet from the queen and the prince, bowling Prince Joffrey over with the gust of air that she generated. Cersei screamed and bent over to see if her son was okay before yelling something to the guards around them.

“Kill him!” Cersei yelled, pointing at Harry and Ned and Anubis.

No one moved, not even daring to come closer to the very frightening, very lethal fully grown dragon. Harry grinned, seeing another man walk out of the keep, one with cold eyes. The man also had a familiar sword strapped to his waist and Harry narrowed his eyes before holding out his hand and whispering a summoning charm. Ice flew from the man’s waist and flew right into Harry’s open palm. There were gasps from all around them and Harry rolled his eyes, smiled and very quickly tucked the sword into his limitless pack.

“Ned, your choice?”

“I’ll fly with you,” Ned finally spoke, his eyes still very wide.

Harry nodded and gestured to Anubis to lower down to the ground, scrambling over the dragon’s left wing to move up onto Anubis’ scaly back. “Ned! Come on!”

Lord Eddard Stark took a deep breath before following Harry’s steps and climbing aboard the dragon. Anubis growled slightly but otherwise didn’t comment on another rider. Ned paused before raising an eyebrow at Harry.

“Sit behind me,” Harry suggested. “There’s enough space.”

Ned nodded and sat down behind Harry and grabbed a hold of the biggest spike on the dragon’s back.

“You set?”

“Yes.”

“Anubis, we’re ready! Go!”

Harry whooped as Anubis took off, running for a few feet, before taking off into the air. They left the courtyard and the Red Keep behind, flying north and after a few minutes, catching up with Hela and Zeus.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry directed Anubis north, the other two dragons following suit, as the day went on. The sun rose into the sky an hour after they left King’s Landing, brightening up the horizon and making each dragon shine in the mid morning light. He occasionally glanced over to the man on Zeus, more than a little curious as to who he was. The guy’s reaction to the dragons was intriguing. The man had not shown an ounce of fear when Zeus had playfully but gently enough head butted him. Most people would have run screaming and the guy had been blindfolded too.

Harry put his hand on Anubis’ scaly skin and whispered a few words in parseltoungue, urging the dragon faster. He wanted to be well away from King’s Landing and whatever pursuit Cersei cooked up for them before picking a place to land. He figured that the queen knew they were going north; Harry hadn’t exactly been quiet about that. And with Ned with them, their destination wasn’t a big secret.

Anubis beat his wings faster, gaining a few more miles. The other two dragons sped up too and Hela rose into the air above them, playing in the clouds near them. He grinned at her antics then turned around to look at Ned. They couldn’t exactly talk in the air; the wind currents were too strong for any sound to carry other than the rhythmic beating of wings.

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours later, the monitoring charm that he had placed on the man chimed an alarm. They had passed Harrenhal an hour and a half ago and he could just now see the faint outline of the Vale to their right, to the east. The Trident was below them, the site where Rhaegar Targaryen had died 15 years ago in the battle against Robert Baratheon. Harry turned to look at Zeus as the golden dragon floated as if through the clouds and whistled urgently, getting the dragon’s attention.

He hissed out an order in parseltoungue and watched as Zeus immediately made to lower. Anubis followed and so did Hela, each of them well accustomed to different orders in different tones. The man on Zeus’ back was limp against the ropes that held him to the dragon and Harry could just barely make out his breathing.

“What’s going on?” Ned shouted as they descended through the air. “Is he...”

“He’s not going to make it any longer without any healing,” Harry yelled back, pointing at the man. “We need to land. I’ll see about his wounds and we’ll rest for a few hours.”

Zeus landed first and stayed on the ground, waiting to be relieved of his burden. Hela took off in a different direction, roaring out in the distinct noise that told him that she was probably hungry. Anubis landed in front of Zeus, with the rushing waters of the converging rivers right behind them. It was cold around the river, a chill wind rushing through the air as Harry slid off Anubis, not even waiting for the dragon to fully land. Ned followed soon after, landing with a thunk on the ground.

Harry hurried over to Zeus’ side, flicking his wand out to remove the ropes. He caught the unknown man gently, flinching when he whimpered low in his throat.

“Where are they going?” Ned spoke, breaking into Harry’s hurried movements.

“What?”

“The dragons,” Eddard questioned, gesturing to Zeus and Anubis. Harry turned to watch his dragon companions fly off, to presumably follow their sister. “They’re not going to eat anyone, are they?”

“No, I’ve trained them better than that. They’ll probably just find a boar or two,” Harry responded, summoning a thick fur from his small but limitless pack and laying it on the hard ground. He lowered the man in his arms down onto it and drew his potion kit out and his medical kit out too, hoping that he had enough bandages for this case. “And maybe even bring us something if Zeus is in a good mood.”

Ned stared at him, more than slightly awed by the fact that he had just ridden a dragon. He was also astonished, belatedly, to realize that dragons were in fact back. Maybe he was dreaming or was already dead, head cut off by the Ser Ilyn Payne.

“Here, Ser Ilyn Payne had this,” Harry said, slowly removing the tatters of clothing that the man had on. He gently removed the blindfold too, feeling his stomach roil at what the man’s eyes looked like, or didn’t look like. They were both closed, too many black eyes contributing to semi-blindness. What was beneath the clothing made him flinch even more. The man’s skin was even worse underneath and it was almost like someone had flayed him, like the Boltons once did. And his breathing was slow to non existent. He drew out Ice and threw it into the ground beside them then went to work, muttering healing charms frantically. “My journal is in here. You may want to write to Robb, tell him you’re okay.”

Ned watched as Harry tended to the man before them, muttering under his breath in his own language. The wizard started to glow as power flowed in the area next to the rivers, where hundreds of men had died in a rebellion. Clouds covered the sun briefly and shadows covered the ground as the glow around Harry wavered, turned black. The glow eventually moved to cover the man on the ground as the urgent wounds were healed, slowly but surely.

“Right… journal,” Ned eventually whispered, grabbing Harry’s pack and reaching into it to grab the journal. He pulled it out and looked over to where Harry was and his eyes widened as he saw a shimmery figure standing next to the pair. Then more figures popped up, wearing the shimmery, translucent white cloak of the kingsguard. Lewyn Martell, Arthur Dayne, Oswell Whent, Gerold Hightower, Jonothor Darry…. Elia Martell and… Ned gasped at his sister’s appearance. Lyanna Stark was older, her grey eyes haunted as they peered down at the injured man on the ground. She looked up at Ned’s sharp inhale and waved, tears growing in her eyes and falling then she disappeared.

They all appeared, ghostly and solemn, watching over the person. And Ned was beginning to get a very good idea as to who had shared his dungeon.

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours later, Harry finally let up, breathing hard and sweating. His magic was halfway depleted, used up to heal all of the urgent, potentially fatal wounds. The man’s skin was now, mostly, all new, pink skin. Though, he had left the man with a broken arm and bandaged a few broken ribs. Too much healing in too short of a time would cause the body to be upset. Besides, he had gotten the fatal wounds.

The emotional wounds however… He let out a rough sigh and looked up, staring up at the ghosts who had come to see their prince tended to. He looked at all of them then down at the man, who had once again passed out. The man was still filthy, blood and filth layered the man up and down. Harry took a deep breath and waved his hand over the man, willing a cleaning charm to take effect.

The charm removed all of the blood and the filth, leaving clean, pale skin. And silver gold hair. A roar from behind him made him turn around, seeing the dragons laying around the temporary site that they had picked. He turned back to the man before him and the ghosts in front of him, watching as they slowly vanished though not before nodding gratefully at him.

The man moaned low in his throat, twitching a little, before opening his eyes. His deep purple eyes. Eyes that were beautiful as they opened fully for the first time in 15 years.

“Who… Who are you?”

“Rhaegar Targaryen?” Harry questioned faintly, summoning his water canteen and not even taking his eyes off of the man before him.

The man’s eyes widened before he slowly nodded, gingerly sitting up to look at him.

“Bloody hell!” Harry exclaimed, watching as the man blinked furiously.

Rhaegar Targaryen lay before him, looking as young as Harry looked. He should have looked at least to be 30 years old but he looked to be only in his mid 20’s, perhaps only one year younger than Harry.


	5. Chapter 5

“Ned… um...” Harry trailed off, turning to look at Lord Stark. Ned was staring at Rhaegar dazedly, looking like he didn’t believe what he was seeing. “Didn’t you say that Rhaegar Targaryen died 15 years ago?”

Zeus toddled over towards them, his wings flapping in the wind. The golden dragon rumbled deep in its throat and crouched next to them, turning to look at the older brother of Daenerys Targaryen. Rhaegar closed his eyes then reopened them, seemingly bewildered too. His eyes went wide when Zeus curled up around Rhaegar, leaving the prince in the crook between a wing and the dragon’s big neck.

“I did,” Ned spoke faintly. “Rhaegar?”

“I died,” Rhaegar finally spoke, his voice hoarse and tentative. Harry held out his water canteen to him, watching Zeus out of the corner of his eyes. Rhaegar hesitantly held out a hand to the dragon, laying it on one of Zeus’ golden scales. Rhaegar’s purple eyes widened, his jaw dropping a little.

Rhaegar watched as the man that had the strangest accent ever held out the water canteen. He reached out a hand, watched it shake before the man’s green eyes softened and he crawled over to sit in front of him. The dragon that had curled around him rumbled in its throat but otherwise let the man closer.

“My name’s Harry,” the man offered quietly, letting Rhaegar take the canteen. He slowly took sips of beautifully cold water, never dropping his eyes from the man. “The dragon that has adopted you is Zeus.”

“Zeus?”

“Where I come from,” Harry started. “Zeus is the king of the gods. Well, at least for one set of gods.”

Rhaegar nodded and turned to look at the other man. He had a familiar look to him, reminding Rhaegar of Lyanna and he winced. “Eddard Stark?”

“Yes. That’s me,” Eddard said, his grey eyes still wide. “What happened to you?”

“I died...” Rhaegar trailed off, closing his eyes at the memory. He still remembered the late morning of the battle at the Trident and the events that followed. “And then I woke up.”

_The last thing on his lips was Lyanna’s name as Robert’s war hammer swung toward him. Then blackness and immediate pain… He woke up screaming in the midst of the river, of the Trident, and heard the screams of other dying men and horses. He heard galloping horses and his body screamed at him, nerves flaring and rebooting as the rent in his body mended itself right before his very eyes. A burning sensation flared through his back and he felt like he had sprouted two heads, letting out a strangled yell._

_“SEVEN HELLS!”_

_Rhaegar shied away from Robert Baratheon’s voice, crawling and swimming in the other direction. Someone must have seen something in the water for arms grabbed him, tightening their hold when he struggled. One of the Baratheon bannermen was seemingly swept aside by something, maybe the water, mayhap he had kicked out._

_“Lord?”_

_Baratheon bannermen surrounded him, some of them sneering at him. Others laughed while some men looked at him with fear in their eyes. Those men were staring at something behind him, something that sounded like a banner flapping in the wind._

_“What is this? Targaryen magic?”_

_A carefully held Robert Baratheon was brought before him and Rhaegar flinched inwardly, seeing the wounds that he himself dealt. Robert was pale but his eyes were angry, so angry that Rhaegar was unsure what Robert would do in this condition. Some part of him was glad, seeing Robert Baratheon laid so low after their fight. But another part, the part that said that he had just died and then come back to life, to Westeros, was fearful. Distantly he knew that most people in Westeros did not think well of magic, of Targaryens now. His father poisoned what good will they had in the kingdoms._

_“Dragonspawn! I thought I killed you!”_

_Rhaegar flinched, his mind trying to understand what had just happened. He had died. The water rushing beneath him was warm, too warm, as Baratheon soldiers pushed him to his knees._

_“Take him to my tent! Let no one see him.”_

_A phalanx of bannermen not his own surrounded him, dragging him none too gently through the river and away from the dead bodies of his friends. Ser Lewen Martell… Ser Jonothor Darry… He looked everywhere but did not see Ser Barristan’s body. But so many other Dornish bannermen and Targaryen men were lying strewn across the ground._

_So many men of his house and loyal men. He wished that this was just a bad dream, that he was still back in King’s Landing with his family._

 

* * *

 

 

“Did you… feel any different?” Harry asked, his green eyes soft with concern as Rhaegar described the first moments after he woke up 15 years ago.  “I only ask because… Well, I have power.”

“Power?” Rhaegar repeated slowly, watching as the other two dragons ambled over to flank Harry. The green dragon had white eyes as it stared at him lazily and the blue dragon blinked then curled around the fire pit in between them, essentially blocking the wind from the humans. There was something cooking in a pot over the fire, some kind of meat.

“He calls himself a wizard,” Eddard Stark explained wearily. “Why did Robert not tell me or anyone else of you?”

Rhaegar looked away and the dragon curled around him, wrapping its wing tighter, not too tight to cause Rhaegar to breathe quicker but enough to be a scaly, leathery wall around him.

“Who visited you in the dungeons?” Harry asked quietly. “Surely someone knew or someone came into give you food. Besides, how… You look as if you are still 24 years old.”

Rhaegar blinked. “Only three people ever visited me. Cersei Lannister, Tywin Lannister and Robert Baratheon. I know of no other. How long has it been?”

“Since you died?” Eddard confirmed.

Rhaegar nodded.

“18 years.”

“I… What of my family? Robert said…” Rhaegar trailed off, leaning hesitantly into the dragon next to him. He still believed he was hallucinating, maybe still stuck in that small cell.

“I am sorry but Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon are dead,” Eddard replied.

“However, your brother and your sister are still alive,” Harry offered. “I saw them a few years ago.”

“Sister? I have a sister?” Rhaegar questioned.

“Your mother was pregnant when she and Viserys fled King’s Landing,” Harry explained. “Rhaella died giving birth to her but Daenerys Targaryen is alive and well.”

“Daenerys…”

“Are you saying that Robert, Cersei and Tywin knew and kept it secret? How could they…” Eddard sighed. “They knew. And had you tortured, didn’t they?”

Rhaegar shuddered, enjoying the warmth of the sturdy dragon next to him. “Cersei… I wonder… What became of Ser Jaime?”

“He is called the kingslayer,” Eddard remarked, grimacing. “He killed your father when he knew that Tywin was going to take the city.”

“At the Wall then?” Rhaegar asked, looking between Harry and Eddard. The man with black hair and green eyes was quiet, looking between Rhaegar, the dragon around him and a stick in his hands. At his words, Eddard’s eyes widened and Harry peered up at him.

“There is someone at the Wall,” Harry spoke. “Lyanna-”

“Harry…”

“Ned, he is Jon’s father.”

Rhaegar looked between them, his eyes drooping closed from exhaustion. His stomach rumbled but since he had spent the past 18 years hungry, he was used to it now. He had come out of the dungeons to a changed Westeros, to dragons of all things! His family was gone and dead except for his brother and apparently a sister. He leaned further into Zeus, who didn’t move away at all. Rhaegar shuddered, knowing what instinctively that he had not imagined what he had seen in Robert’s tent all that time ago.

“Rhaegar…”

He startled as an arm curled around him.

“Easy, it’s me. You want something to eat?”

Harry had crawled over, shuffling in between the dragon’s wing and Rhaegar, and held out a bowl. A bowl that held wonderful smelling food.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Harry spoke, handing over the bowl into Rhaegar’s already outstretched hands. “We’ll rest here for a few more hours then take off. Ned, I don’t know what you want to do in regards to… this situation.”

“I told Robb to call the banners while you were healing him,” Eddard said with a sigh, taking another bowl from Harry. “Cersei is not going to let this go, especially since I know her secret. We will need to discuss with the other lords of the North. And with her, comes the Westerlands. Lord Renly did speak of aiding me before this happened but I don’t know what’s become of him.”

“You heard that your wife took Tyrion?” Harry asked, looking back at Rhaegar, who was taking slow sips of food every other minute. It was a miracle that the man wasn’t dead but who knows with magic and death… He knew that there was something that Rhaegar wasn’t telling them, something about what else had happened that day but Harry wasn’t going to push. Not when the man looked a few minutes away from dropping into a deep sleep.

“Yes, I did. The Kingslayer attacked me and Jory soon afterward,” Eddard replied.

“And what is Cersei Lannister’s secret?” Rhaegar questioned, handing the bowl back to Harry and resting his head on Zeus’ warm flank. “I know she is the queen with Robert the king.”

“Their kids, Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella, are not Robert’s,” Eddard responded. “They are all blond haired and green eyed. And now Joffrey is on the throne which he should not rightly be.”

You mean they are all Jaime’s?” Rhaegar said, narrowing his eyes. “Cersei and Jaime’s?”

“Yes. They’re all bastards,” Eddard remarked.

“You said Robert’s son, Joffrey, is on the throne now? How did… Robert die and when?” Rhaegar asked, wondering how the man who had killed him had taken his end.

“Killed by a boar two weeks ago,” Ned spoke. “And I suspect aided by drink.”

Harry snorted. “I wish he had been around to see our escape. His expression when seeing my dragons would have been something to see. Oh to be a fly on the wall for that.”

Rhaegar looked at Harry. “May I sleep for a few hours?”

Harry’s eyes widened as he nodded. “Of course. That’s what I meant by rest. We’re… in a moderate hurry but if, and that’s a big if, Cersei gets an army to pursue us right away, I’ll take care of it. I can take care of Ned’s injury while you take a nap.”

“Harry, I am fine,” Ned replied dryly.

“Huh huh,” Harry retorted, getting up carefully and walking over to stand in front of Ned Stark. “Your fever is down. That’s about it. That wound needs to be properly cleaned and healed unless you want to actually have your wife become a widow.”

Rhaegar fell asleep two minutes later, lying against Zeus comfortably.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ned, I know you’re keeping Jon’s secret to protect him but Rhaegar is his father,” Harry remarked quietly, casting a cleaning charm on the other man’s thigh wound. “Jon has the right to know.”

Ned sighed and glanced over at the sleeping prince. “I suppose you have the right of it. Robert is dead now anyway and with the North between Jon and any harm, he should be okay. I only hope that we’re not too late to stop Jon from taking the vows.”

Harry watched as Anubis and Hela started to play, the big dragons taking turns stalking each other. Zeus just watched idly, his tail moving back and forth. “If Jon has taken the vows, is there anything we can do? Supposing that Jon would like to come home and see his father, that is.”

“Only a king can rescind those vows,” Ned explained. “And the king on the throne right now does not have the right to it.”

“Well, Catelyn will be glad to see you,” Harry said. “I’ll be able to heal Bran too, seeing as that was the original plan.”

Ned dipped his head in a nod. “I know Bran’s always wanted to become a knight. He’ll be happy to hear that you can heal him.”

“I take it he hasn’t stopped climbing?”

Ned grinned and shook his head. “No. It drives Cat crazy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaegar woke up, breathing heavily and sweating and to gentle fingers carding through his hair. The first thing he saw was a golden wing above him and then Harry’s face, as the other man looked him over.

“Nightmare?”

Rhaegar stared back at Harry then finally dipped his head in a nod. “I was back there still.”

Harry wrinkled his nose then elbowed Zeus. “Move over, you big lizard. Carefully.”

“Big lizard?” Rhaegar repeated, his lips twitching up into a small grin as Zeus moved, rumbling deep in his throat at the inconvenience.

“Well, that’s what they are,” Harry offered with a bemused grin. “Ned, he’s awake.”

Rhaegar sat up gingerly, his body still ached somewhat, and looked up into the blue sky. There were clouds in the sky, some occasionally shielding the ground from the sun. And there was a chill in the air, one he distantly recognized as an indicator of winter coming. He glanced around the landscape, recognizing the exact spot where he died. The rivers of the Trident would forever be burned into his memory and not in a good way.

“We need to get back to Winterfell,” Eddard was saying. “The Lords need to know what happened to Rhaegar and to me. I don’t know if they’ll respect Robb for the same things they do me.”

“Robb does have Grey Wind,” Harry replied. “That should help.”

“Grey Wind?” Rhaegar echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“There are now six direwolves south of the Wall,” Harry spoke. “It’ll be interesting to see them.”

“Direwolves? South of the wall? What has been going on while I have been captive?” Rhaegar questioned. “Has Robert been a good king?”

“Uh… more or less,” Harry said, glancing at Ned then back to Rhaegar as he stood up and began to pack up their belongings.

“Hmm?”

“It depends on who you talk to,” Eddard replied hesitantly. “He was much like Aerys was in the beginning, taking women everywhere he went. Robert already had bastards even before my sister and him were betrothed.”

“I… remember Lyanna telling me about that,” Rhaegar commented, turning to watch as Zeus began to stalk the green dragon. The other dragons were wrestling with each other and didn’t see Zeus coming until the golden dragon roared and pounced. Birds squawked around them and took flight from trees at the noise.“That was a part of why she… I’m sorry, Lord Stark.”

Ned sighed. “I am glad she was temporarily happy with you. It made the country go to war but in hindsight, she probably would have been miserable with Robert. And the Lannisters sacking the capital was not your fault.”

Harry stopped as he was putting away the pot and glanced over to the north east, to where the Vale was. “As I was flying to King’s Landing yesterday, I did see a lot of torches over the riverlands, Ned. I fear more than just the North is in turmoil. If we aim to go back North to Winterfell and summon the banners, we will need to support Lady Catelyn’s father.”

“Did you see any specific banners?”

“Not particularly, no. We were flying in the dark but there were quite a lot of men and horses, that much I could tell. Hela did scare a few groups of men though, mischievous creature that she is.”

“Hela?”

“She’s the green dragon,” Harry said, gesturing to where Hela was. The she-dragon was currently on top of Zeus, trying to pin her brother. “Anubis is the blue one.”

 

* * *

 

 

They took off half an hour later, with Rhaegar flying on Zeus and Ned and Harry on Anubis. Harry had given Rhaegar a cloak with a hood on it, to hide his hair color. Along with some other spare clothes Harry had given him, Rhaegar looked like just a normal man though he was far from it. Harry had them skirting around the Vale and onwards past the Twins, spotting a few archer patrols on the walls of the Frey castle. If he squinted, he could see every single person on that wall stopping in shock. Harry grinned and urged the three dragons onward, with Anubis in the lead, Zeus in the middle and Hela flying around them.  

They passed Moat Cailin two hours after noon, as the sun reached its’ peak. By the time they reached Winterfell, it was 3:30pm and Harry could see that Rhaegar was tiring again. But the dragon prince was also clearly enjoying the flight and being able to fly on dragonback. He figured it was due to not sleeping well at all for the past several years and or being woken up each time he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaegar was still having trouble believing that dragons were back, were alive. The creature underneath him was warm and he could feel each muscle flexing and moving as the dragon flew beneath the clouds. The last dragon that his family had been able to hatch had been a tiny, stunted thing. This dragon though… Zeus, Anubis and Hela were so far from stunted as he ran a hand over Zeus’ scales. His powerful wings beat almost lazily, enjoying being in an air current and not having to do much work.

Rhaegar himself enjoyed being up in the air, so far from the ground and where anyone could see him for what he was. When he had first come ‘back’ after he had died, everyone that had seen him had stared at him like he was a grumpkin of the North, like he was a monster. A monster that had come from another, more human monster. He grinned, knowing that his father wasn’t a threat to Westeros anymore.

Jaime had apparently taken care of that. Rhaegar wondered just what had happened in King’s Landing to make the young lion kill Aerys. And had made Jaime not protect Elia, Rhaenys and little Aegon. Rhaegar sighed, pulling the cloak tighter around his body even though he didn’t really feel the cold, as Zeus slowly came to a stop, hovering in midair. They had arrived at Winterfell.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Harry urged the dragons up and over the walls of Winterfell, having passed the town right outside the walls a few minutes ago. The three animals had drawn quite the crowd, their shadows passing over homes and people. Since the dragons were only roughly a year old, they weren’t that big but he knew that the Balerion of old had been huge.

As they coasted over the walls, he could hear shouts and alarmed yells as the Stark bannermen moved up onto the walls, aiming bows and arrows. He could just faintly see Ser Rodrik and watched as the man’s eyes widened so much that he thought they would fall out of his head. Harry narrowed his eyes then urged Anubis to slow down, hover in the air. Lord Eddard Stark moved forward carefully, yelling out to his master of arms.

“Ser Rodrik!”

The men on the walls all stopped, some of them halfway to drawing their bows back. Ser Rodrik signaled to his men, his eyes going wide.

“Lord Stark?”

“It is me, ser,” Eddard replied, faint amusement in his voice. “If you would be so kind as to order your men to stand down.”

Ser Rodrik blinked then smiled wearily. “You have quite the escort there, my lord.”

“I do,” Lord Eddard Stark spoke.

“Must be some tale,” Rodrik replied.

Harry glanced over to where Rhaegar was on Zeus’ back then gestured past the wall. He knew that Zeus would just follow his siblings in general and it looked like Rhaegar was losing energy as it was. “Come on. Follow us.”

Rhaegar nodded, bent down to stroke Zeus’ scales. Anubis went without ordering, flying over the walls and past the road up to the courtyard right before the keep. Hela landed first, snorting out uneasily as people stopped to gawk at her. Anubis landed next and Zeus landed last, seeming to land more gently than usual. Harry slid off, turning to see Robb and Ser Rodrik walking over towards them.

Lady Catelyn stepped out of the keep and stopped at the sight that met her. Three dragons and her husband, followed by the knight that had taken a liking to their family. Her eyes went wide and her knees would have threatened to buckle had Ned not run up to her.

“Cat.”

“Father!”

Harry glanced up to the entrance to the keep, watched as Robb, Arya, Sansa and Rickon all raced out. All of them stopped, with Robb and Arya’s eyes widening the most. Their direwolves were next to each Stark, with Shaggydog and Summer noticeably absent. Grey Wind even growled at the dragons and Hela blew out a puff of smoke in the direction of the wolf.

Harry grinned then turned, walking over to stand by Rhaegar, who had been quiet.

“The young girl looks almost like her aunt,” Rhaegar whispered, his voice dry again. He looked at Harry with sad purple eyes. “I had never been past the Twins… before. The North…”

“It’s a harsh land,” Harry spoke, watching as Lord Stark embraced his children. “And if it’s worth anything, I’m sorry for what Robert and Lord Tywin did to you.”

“No ‘king’ before Robert?”

Harry snorted. “Hey, I would be respectful to a king who had earned it. Robert Baratheon did not. He spoke of…”

Rhaegar sighed, his body appearing to be smaller by the minute, as if he was trying to curl in on himself. “You can say it. That’s what he called me.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “He called you dragonspawn?”

“And many other… things,” Rhaegar said wearily, his eyes going to where Lord Stark was talking with Robb and the master at arms. “You said something about the Wall. About someone being there that maybe I would be interested in? I know Maester Aemon is there and I would be grateful to see him, if that could be arranged.”

“Of course. I… Might you be interested in a bath and a good night’s sleep before we go to the wall? It’d make you feel more human again,” Harry offered. “Winterfell has wonderful hot springs underneath it.”

“I’m not…” Rhaegar trailed off, exhaling loudly.

“Hela, no pouncing on the wolves!” Harry yelled, turning to watch as the green she-dragon stopped stalking towards where the wolves had come to sniff at the dragons. She turned her big head towards him, almost pouting. Nymeria huffed out a snort, her tail wagging innocently. Arya’s eyes widened and she grinned. “They are not food!”

Rhaegar laughed quietly, taking a step closer to Harry. Rhaegar’s laugh was brittle, uneasy, like he hadn’t laughed in so long. “A bath sounds wonderful.”

“Lord Stark,” Harry spoke, walking over to stop in front of Eddard, Robb and Ser Rodrik. Lady Catelyn was still clinging onto Ned, her eyes bright with tears.

“Thank you for rescuing our lord,” Ser Rodrik said. “We are grateful.”

“Who is that?” Robb asked, gesturing to the cloaked man next to the golden dragon.

“That is a complicated answer,” Lord Eddard replied. “One that cannot go beyond these walls just yet.”

Robb’s eyes widened but he nodded.

“Rhaegar Targaryen.”

Shocked gasps flew from every mouth. Robb stared at the man, trying to see if any silver hair was poking out from under the hood.

“I thought King Robert killed him,” Lady Catelyn said, glancing curiously at the man too. “How…”

“It is Prince Rhaegar,” Harry commented, crossing his arms. “It appears that Robert did not kill him, only kept him imprisoned for all this time. Lord Stark, I will take him to my usual quarters. He said a bath would be wonderful so I can go assist with that. Have the bannermen been called?”

Robb dipped his head in a nod. “They have. They’ll be here in a few days each.”

“Good. I will meet with them when they are all here,” Lord Eddard spoke, glancing back to where Rhaegar was standing quietly. Rhaegar was so unlike King Aerys that it was hard to think of them as related. “I think it’s time for the dragons to once again sit on the throne.”

“Father?”

“The current king, King Joffrey, is a bastard,” Eddard Stark replied.

 

* * *

 

“Ser Potter?”

Harry glanced behind him to see Arya. Rhaegar stopped, leaning further into Harry, who wrapped an arm around him in return. The dragon prince was shaking more than a little and Harry could sense powerful magic around the man, unfamiliar magic that spoke of power and ancient magics. “Yes, my lady?”

Arya rolled her eyes. “The dragons? How?”

“They won’t eat you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Arya stuck out her tongue at him, glared at him. “That’s not what I meant!”

“I’ll explain later,” Harry remarked, grinning a little. “After dinner, perhaps?”

 

* * *

 

 

Harry just barely closed the door behind him when he heard a ripping noise. Rhaegar let out a strangled noise, stumbled over to the bed at the end of the room, his knees buckling. Harry followed slowly, his hands wanting to reach out and help, to assist, but he didn’t know what was wrong.

“Rhaegar?”

“Just… Just a moment,” Rhaegar spoke through gritted teeth. The cloak that Harry had given him fluttered to the ground, a big rip in the middle of it. And revealed… Harry inhaled sharply, glad that the door was closed and that no one could see what he was looking at. There were now two big silver wings extending out from Rhaegar’s back, wings that looked an awful lot like dragon wings.

“So that’s what I was sensing,” Harry finally spoke, hesitant and awed.

Rhaegar slowly turned around, the wings moving and curling around him. “You’re not…”

“Scared? No,” Harry whispered. “Awed by your control and by how beautiful they are. They match your hair.”

Rhaegar stared at him, disbelieving. “Robert Baratheon and his men were scared.”

“That’s why they locked you up.” It wasn’t a question.

“I had just come back to life,” Rhaegar offered, frowning. “There was so much hatred in his eyes and I had just… My injury had mended right in front of me. I was… I thought I had died.”

Harry took a step towards him and another when Rhaegar didn’t move. “I understand. I died too.”

Rhaegar blinked, his purple eyes narrowing to study him. “You don’t have wings.”

“I’m no Targaryen,” Harry said, shaking his head. “You’re beautiful. I assume you can fold them back inward?”

“Yes. That’s… My jailers forced me to when they chained me up and I accidentally found that I could fold them back into the holes,” Rhaegar whispered, his voice low and aching as he glanced downward at the ripped shirt. “... It’s been awhile since I could bring them out. They ache.”

Harry closed the distance between them, hesitantly reached out to gently tilt Rhaegar’s chin up, looking into his purple eyes. “They’re beautiful. Don’t listen to anyone who says otherwise.”

Rhaegar looked at him, unconsciously leaned into Harry’s warm hand.

Harry watched as Rhaegar’s eyes fluttered closed, the dragon prince breathing out a deep sigh. “I’ll call for a bath and food to be brought up. I think Lords Cerwyn and Bolton are already here and it’s going to be loud down there for a while.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaegar finally stepped out of hiding as the last serving girl left through the door. Harry was standing by the big iron bath, placing several fresh, clean clothes by the bed. The black haired man had tested the water a few times, declaring it safe to step in. “We’re of a similar height so these should fit. Do you want me to go?”

“If you would not mind staying while I bathe?”

“No, of course not. I can also help clean those wings of yours,” Harry offered quietly, walking over to sit on the bed.

“I am not sure if they need cleaning,” Rhaegar said, cautiously walking over to the bath. “But I can not see them clearly enough.”

“They’re so long that I can see them from over here,” Harry remarked.

Rhaegar slowly stripped his clothes from him, his legs shaky and not used to holding his weight for too long now. Especially since he had not gotten used to the extra weight of the wings. He took a breath then stepped into the warm water, sliding into the clean water and sighing contentedly, propping his wings up onto the rim of the tub. “Would you mind making this warmer?”

Harry raised an eyebrow but walked over, kneeling beside the tub. He stuck his finger into the water, glancing at Rhaegar with a bewildered expression. “It is already quite warm.”

“I can’t feel the warmth. It feels almost cold to me.”

“I had thought it warm but sure,” Harry whispered, muttering a word or two under his breath. The water swirled around Rhaegar’s body but slowly, he felt it warming up, the flow of the water curling around him. The heat sunk into his body, easing the tension in his muscles and removing the stress from his body. “That okay to you?”

Rhaegar nodded, speechless at how pleasurable this small thing felt to him. Harry backed off, quiet footsteps back to the bed. Rhaegar slowly slid further into the tub, moving his wings around so he could dunk his whole head into the water. He was able to wet his hair, grabbing the soap that Harry had left by the tub and scrubbing up into his head.

His hands shook as he moved, trying to get his back, around his shoulder blades.

“You want some help with that?”

“I… Yes, please.”

Harry once again knelt beside the tub, rolling up the sleeves of his tunic and wetting his fingers in the water, gathered the soap in his hands. “Okay, just let me know if I should stop.”

Rhaegar nodded and then felt the other man’s hands come up to cup his neck, rubbing the soap into his skin. Everywhere Harry touched, his skin tingled and pleased sounds emerged unwillingly from his throat.

“Where did… you come from?” Rhaegar whispered as Harry’s hands moved around his skin, digging in slightly with his nails. Rhaegar groaned as the other man’s hands hit a spot on his back that he had tried to scratch many times when he had been chained up. “Your… accent…”

“I am not from Westeros or Essos,” Harry replied, his voice low, husky. “I’ve traveled far from my homeland and this world is the second one I’ve been to.”

“This world?” Rhaegar asked, arching his back into Harry’s hands in an attempt to get more of that touch. “You… How old are you?”

There was silence for a few minutes as Harry’s hands moved down his back, scrubbing dirt from his back. Rhaegar could hear the sounds of horses and people shouting back and forth down in the courtyard. He knew that Lord Stark had called his bannermen but what he did not know. He knew that… Queen Cersei Lannister could have sent pursuit or maybe even the new king, Joffrey had sent riders after them.

Harry had said that he had directed the dragons to lie in the godswood, casting a few certain… charms around them to hide them. Rhaegar hadn’t known what Harry had meant by charm but he figured he could ask later.

“I look 25,” Harry started after a while, his hands moving up Rhaegar’s back and to the area around his shoulder blades. His wings protruded from around there and Rhaegar stilled as Harry lightened his touch, gently stroking the base of the wings. “I am really 170 years old.”

“Pardon?” Rhaegar questioned, his eyes widening, pulling away from Harry and slowly turning to face him. Harry stared at him, his green eyes filled with memories of experiences that Rhaegar would never think of. “I could have sworn I misheard. You are 170 years old, Ser Potter?”

Harry blinked but nodded. “I am.”

 

* * *

 

 

Harry watched as Rhaegar stared at him, the prince trying to understand what Harry had just told him.

“How is that possible?”

“I told you I have power,” Harry explained, drawing his arms into his sides. “Magic. My story is a long one but suffice to say, I have lost my mortality through my own actions. I killed my enemies and lost so many of my friends in a battle I participated in, led, and it ended in becoming… the Master of Death.”

Rhaegar blinked, the wings behind his back stilling and curling back into him, disappearing. “Is it something akin to a god?”

Harry shook his head, his lips twitching up into a frown. “No. It is something between being mortal, human, and a god.”

Rhaegar nodded, standing up. Harry watched as the water dripped off of him, summoning a warm fur to hand over. As soon as Rhaegar took the fur, Harry turned around, walking over to the window and peering out of it.

There were multiple horses and riders down in the courtyard bearing both the House Bolton banners and House Cerwyn banners. He could see Lord Stark and Robb talking with who was probably Lord Roose Bolton and Lord Medger Cerwyn by the entrance to the keep. The rest of their bannermen were outside the walls, pitching tents and getting ready for anything.

Harry could also see the many servants quickly going in and out of the keep, probably getting ready for the small welcoming feast tonight. The sun had gone down while Rhaegar was bathing and the moon was up, casting a light glow over the courtyard and the rest of Winterfell. Footsteps behind him drew his attention to where Rhaegar had walked over to stand beside him, clothed in a tunic and leggings that had no holes and weren’t dusty or covered in filth.

“Who is Lord Stark’s oldest son?” Rhaegar asked, bringing up a comb to his silver hair and beginning to comb it. Before the bath, it had had a lot of tangles and mats, courtesy of being chained in a dungeon for a little over 15 years.

“Robb Stark,” Harry answered idly. “He’s capable and is very much a Stark. Grey Wind is his direwolf.”

As Rhaegar was about to ask something else, they heard giggles through the wooden door and Harry’s lips twitched up into a grin, knowing who it was. He strode over to the door, opened it and crossed his arms, looking right at Sansa Stark and Jeyne Poole. Sansa’s direwolf, Lady, was standing next to her master, peering up at Harry and scenting the air.

Sansa stiffened at being caught at eavesdropping, her cheeks reddening. “We just wanted to see the Prince. Is it really Rhaegar Targaryen?”

Harry sighed and gestured them back. “You’ll see him later at the feast. Go on.”

Sansa and Jeyne both sighed dramatically then ran off, giggling.

“Harry- Ser Potter…”

“You can call me Harry. Calling me Ser Potter sounds silly,” Harry spoke, turning around and closing the door. Rhaegar was braiding his hair, pulling it back into one big braid behind his head.

“You said you are 170 years old and yet you look young. I am 40 years old and yet I look like I am still 24,” Rhaegar murmured. “Have you any idea why that is?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You have wings, your appearance has not changed for some years… You have wild, ancient power around you. And you have the blood of the dragon. Have you tried to… change form, shape?”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened so much that he thought they would fall out of his head. “Excuse me?”

Harry grinned a little and between one second and the next shifted shape, fluidly falling into the form of a big, black cat. Rhaegar blinked, his mouth falling open and then closing.

“Harry?”

He growled, sitting down on his haunches, waited. Rhaegar stared then walked over to him, hand reaching out. Harry slowly stood up, nudged his head into Rhaegar’s waist, yowling out in surprise as Rhaegar’s knees buckled, the prince burrowing into Harry’s fur. When Harry felt his fur getting wet and when he heard Rhaegar’s breath turn to hitching, shuddering sobs, he slowly shifted back and wrapped his arms around the other man.


	7. Chapter 7

Rhaegar burrowed into Harry’s arms, concentrating on vanishing his wings again, and with a light ruffling sound, they vanished. He heard Harry inhale sharply then Rhaegar felt the other man wrap his arms further around him, loosely but protectively. Rhaegar felt even more tears pool in his eyes, his body quivering with exhaustion and hunger and embarrassment. His father would have never let him cry like this before him, would have yelled at him that Targaryens were strong, were proud.

“It is okay to cry,” Harry whispered, his hands rubbing soothing circles on Rhaegar’s back. “You… You were tortured and kept in prison for 15 years. It’s a miracle you survived.”

His breath hitched at the gentle voice and he pulled away, feeling Harry’s hands disappear. “I was close to death many times. I think I remember Maester Pycelle healing me.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “Rhaegar, Lord Stark was talking about putting you on the throne.”

Rhaegar froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Now?”

“Not now,” Harry said, shaking his head. “We will need to remove the Lannisters and possibly the Baratheons but we will have a lot of support from various houses.”

“I do not…”

“Think about it? Lord Stark would not pressure you into it, not now. I would not pressure you into it.”

Rhaegar stared at Harry, seeing his green eyes soften in concern.

“I will.”

“Good. I think I hear everyone going down for dinner. Let’s join the Starks.”

“Do I need a disguise?” Rhaegar asked, taking Harry’s hand as the other man helped him up.

“No. We need to firmly prove you are alive.”

  


* * *

 

 

Ned stood in front of the weirwood tree in the godswood, his thoughts scattered enough that he did not hear Cat walk up to him.

“We will be indebted to Ser Potter,” Catelyn remarked, her hand going to entwine with his. “For bringing you back alive.”

“We do not know for certain that Prince Joffrey would have had me killed,” Ned spoke, turning to look at her.

Catelyn raised an eyebrow, turned to look at the weirwood tree then turned back to him. “Ser Potter seemed to think so. The Starks… None of your family ever came back when they left to go south. I almost lost you, Ned.”

He sighed and pulled her in for a hug, thinking of the prince that they were hosting right now in Winterfell. “Cat…”

“Yes?”

“Jon…”

Catelyn’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t interrupt him.

“He is not my bastard.”

Catelyn blinked. “Then whose child is he?”

“Jon is my sister’s child,” Ned offered wearily, pulling his cloak tighter around him.

“Lyanna’s? But…” Catelyn trailed off, staring at him briefly before looking back at the keep. Ned watched as she paled, thinking through what he told her. “Jon is Rhaegar Targaryen’s son.”

“He is.”

“The rumors said that he was Ashara’s…” Catelyn whispered, her eyes widening. “Jon would be the heir to the throne.”

Ned blinked and looked in the direction of the north, of where the Wall was. “Yes, he would be, wouldn’t he?”

“Do you know if Rhaegar… and Lyanna wed?”

Ned shook his head. “I will ask it of him. Rhaegar and Ser Potter plan on going to the Wall tomorrow to see Jon and Maester Aemon. I will tell Rhaegar over dinner.”

“Our children will hear it too,” Catelyn said, stepping even closer to Ned to ward off the chill in the air.

  


* * *

 

 

Harry stepped through the door to the dining hall in the keep, looking over the assembled Stark household. The only Stark bannermen that had arrived today were Lord Bolton, Lord Tallhart and Lord Cerwyn, who were all camped outside of Winterfell. There was to be a feast when every lord was in residence but not tonight. The only people around the table were the Starks and their direwolves at their feet.

Harry and Rhaegar had checked on the dragons in the few minutes before dinner, seeing to it that they were fed and content in the godswood. They had left the dragons sleeping in a pile, Zeus even slightly snoring.

Lord Stark was sitting at the head of the table and Lady Catelyn was sitting to his right, whispering to Ned about how glad she was to see him. Robb, Theon, Sansa, Arya, Rickon were spread around the table, talking amongst each other about the dragons. When Harry and Rhaegar entered though, the Starks all went silent. Harry could even hear Sansa gasp at the sight that they made, or well, at the sight that Rhaegar made.

Rhaegar made a striking picture, a cloak that was Targaryen red thrown over his shoulders and his silver hair spread out behind him, clean and smooth.

There were two place settings that were not in front of people, clearly set for them.

“Your Grace,” Lord Eddard Stark spoke, standing up and dipping his head in a nod. “Please, sit and eat with us.”

Harry stepped over and walked over to the table, sitting down in his customary spot, and glanced over at Rhaegar. He patted the seat next to him and watched as the dragon prince made his way over to the table, gracefully sitting down and facing the Starks with a weary expression on his face.

“I am grateful to you, Lord Stark,” Rhaegar started, eying the Stark heir that was sitting across from him and the Greyjoy lad. Lady Sansa was staring at him, her eyes wide, with a look that was very familiar to Rhaegar, from times past. All of the ladies at court stared at him like that before Robert’s Rebellion, before the tourney at Harrenhal. “For your hospitality.”

Lord Stark nodded, his grey eyes assessing. “You are very welcome. However, I think Ser Potter would have put something together if Winterfell wasn’t welcoming. His tent is quite something.”

Harry snorted beside him. “I would have, Ned. I would have been heartbroken if you had shut us out of Winterfell a minute after arriving at the castle.”

Rhaegar turned to look at Harry, raising an eyebrow. The relationship between Harry and Lord Stark was a rather odd one, familiar and teasing enough that Lord Eddard let the man use a nickname. “Have you really called your banners because you plan on sitting me on the throne?”

Robb’s eyes widened and Theon’s did too, as well as the ladies around the table.

“I have,” Lord Stark replied. “My sister thought well of you, I think.”

Rhaegar nodded, unsure what the Stark lord was getting at but he was more than willing to listen.

“You are going to the Wall tomorrow, are you not?” Lord Eddard asked, as they all started to eat. Servants carried in food, setting the different plates on the table before them.

“That is what I hope to do,” Rhaegar answered, glancing to Harry as the other man pulled over a few plates of food and started to dish out food for him and for Rhaegar. He started to eat, his stomach growling with hunger, and only took small bites. Harry had told him to take it easy on food for the next few days, as his stomach wouldn’t be up to eating rich foods or even a lot of food. “Whether by dragon or horse. I hope to see my great-great-great uncle.”

“Rhaegar, drink this with your food,” Harry whispered, drawing his attention.

Rhaegar watched as Harry pulled out a vial of something and handed it to him. The vial was of light blue glass and had liquid in it but he knew not what it was.

“It’s… to make sure you’re healthy,” Harry explained, his green eyes looking him over. “You’re thin and underweight. Drinking one of these with each meal for a fortnight will help that.”

Rhaegar studied him then nodded, taking the vial from him and the plate of food as Harry handed it over. Rhaegar blinked and Harry’s lips twitched up into a soft grin.

Lord Stark cleared his throat, loudly, drawing Rhaegar’s attention away from Harry.

“Your Grace, what do you remember of the time before Robert…” Lord Stark trailed off, unease in his expression and voice. “Before Robert…”

“Killed him?”

Lord Eddard sighed at Harry’s blunt statement, seeing the wizard grin. “Yes, Harry. What do you remember after Robert killed you?”

Rhaegar looked between the two men, seeing Lady Catelyn take in a sharp breath.

The Stark children were looking back and forth between their father and him and Harry, like they were watching a tourney.

“Lyanna and I… stayed at the Tower of Joy,” Rhaegar offered. “I left her to go to war. Lyanna and her babe died a few weeks after the battle, if I understood you correctly.”

“My aunt was pregnant?” Arya blurted out, drawing the adults attention to her and Robb, whose Tully blue eyes were wide.

“Jon…” Robb trailed off.

“Jon?” Rhaegar repeated.

“Robb?” Lord Stark asked, looking over at his eldest son.

“His hand… We were playing in the kitchen when we were younger, a lot younger,” Robb spoke, staring right at Rhaegar now. “Jon’s your son.”

Rhaegar’s heart skipped a beat, a choked breath leaving him at those words. “I… I have a son whose… Jon? Robert didn’t find out?”

Lord Stark sighed but nodded. “Yes. You have a son. His name is Jon.”

Rhaegar stood up, dropping his fork to the table with a loud clang. It was silent for a few minutes, the only noise was the loud breathing of the wolves under the table. Rhaegar’s breathing was loud as he stared at Lord Stark then turned to Harry.

Harry raised an eyebrow but nodded, standing up too. “We can go now. He’s at the Wall. Shouldn’t take us too long if we travel by dragon.”

“Harry…” Lord Stark trailed off.

“We’ll be careful,” Harry spoke, tugging his cloak tighter around himself and glancing at Rhaegar, who had already walked over to the doorway. “We’ll say hi to your brother. Seems I need to postpone healing Bran though.”

“I’ll tell him,” Robb offered, peering at Harry and Rhaegar. “Say hi to Jon for me?”

Harry grinned and nodded, walking over to stand beside Rhaegar. “Sorry for interrupting the meal.”

“It’s not a problem.” Lord Eddard Stark exchanged glances with Catelyn before gesturing them out of the hall.

  


* * *

 

 

Harry summoned the things that he had left in his room, namely Gryffindor’s sword and his trunk, which he miniaturized again and strapped to his waist. Harry led Rhaegar through the keep and out through the front, uncloaking the dragons on the way to the godswood.

Anubis and Zeus were already awake from their short nap, having sensed both Harry and Rhaegar’s urgency. Hela was peering at them through the gate and Harry pushed her out of the way as they entered the godswood. Rhaegar rushed over to Zeus, lightly jumping up onto the dragon’s back and whispering something to the creature.

Harry walked right over to Anubis, the dark blue dragon almost hidden under the night sky, before walking right up the dragon’s wing and settling himself on the saddle that he had made.

“We go north,” Harry murmured, patting Anubis on the neck and nodding to Rhaegar. “The dragons will know the way.”

“How do I give them instructions?”

“You thinking about burning the Lannisters?”

“No,” Rhaegar spoke, grabbing a hold of one of Zeus’ spikes and grasping it tightly.

“They know Valyrian,” Harry offered, shrugging. “If you need to, you can say the word for burn.”

Rhaegar nodded and with that, Zeus took off running, the creature’s wing limbs touching the ground lightly before the dragon jumped up into the sky. The trees in the godswood were buffeted by the strong winds made by dragon wings as the other two dragons took off too, Hela in the lead as always.

Harry could see people on the ground stopping what they were doing, gaping up at the dragons as they flew over the castle. The banners of House Bolton and House Cerwyn snapped and blew in the strong winds that followed them and horses whinnied in fright. He could see the banners of House Manderly in the distance to the south and the bears of House Mormont to the north east, indicated by many torches and the sounds of men marching to battle.

The moon lit their way as they flew north, passing Winterfell, and followed the kingsroad to the Wall. Hela flew amongst the clouds just a little ways above the two dragons with riders, flying loops and trying to nip Anubis’ tail. Harry snorted and waved her off at her last pass, not wanting to experience dragon family drama when he was riding one.

They passed the tip of the wolfswood and flew into the lands of the New Gift, the lands of the Night’s Watch four hours later. It was half past 11, the stars fully out and shining and the moon at its’ brightest as they finally coasted over Moles Town, the lights and torches of Castle Black appearing on the horizon.

“He’s at Castle Black!” Harry yelled over, seeing the moon shine over Zeus’ golden scales and making the dragon shine. He conjured a witch light to shine the way, letting it hover between Anubis and Zeus but when he looked at Rhaegar, he could tell the man had no trouble seeing Harry in the dark. Rhaegar was looking right at him, his purple eyes narrowed in thought. “The castle due north.”

Rhaegar nodded before urging Zeus onward.

Harry did the same with Anubis, hoping that no one would shoot at them. Chances were that no one would see them but still… Harry sighed and placed his hand on Anubis’ warm scales, the fire within the dragon warming him up in the cold air. It was lightly snowing, with little tufts of snow landing in his hair and on Anubis.

As they got within a mile of the castle, he heard a horn blow, signaling that someone had seen them. And then another blow of a horn. And another. Harry raised an eyebrow, knowing that three horn blows in the night’s watch meant someone had seen the White Walkers. But… A fourth blow of a horn cut through the air as the dragons hovered above the gate. Perhaps that would a new tradition… Four horn blows means dragons… He snorted at the thought then urged Anubis to land before the gate.

Zeus did too, Rhaegar sliding off at the first moment to thump down on the ground. Hela landed behind the two dragons, peering around at their surroundings, before roaring and letting loose a jet of green flame into the air. Startled yells came from behind the gate and walls before Harry saw a few watchmen arrive on top of the gate, bows nocked and their eyes wide with fear.

“Why don’t you let me do the talking?” Harry spoke, as he slid down from Anubis’ back and stepped up beside the other man. “They know of me, not of you.”

Rhaegar dipped his head in a nod and they waited.

The gate opened, letting them see Lord Commander Jeor Mormont and several men, their hands on their swords. A few held torches, lighting up the area. Jon was not in the group and nor was Ghost.

Jeor Mormont looked stricken, his eyes wide and his face pale. “Ser Potter… What is the meaning of this?”

“Have the new recruits already said their vows?” Harry asked idly, glancing at Rhaegar, who was eying the men at the gate.

“What…”

Zeus hissed low in his throat, his tail curling around his big body.

Every one of the Night’s Watchmen in front of them jumped, taking a few feet back.

“They won’t harm you,” Harry spoke.

“No, the new recruits have not said their vows yet,” Jeor Mormont remarked. “Does this… visit have something to do with one of them?”

“I would like to talk with Jon and perhaps Benjen too,” Harry explained. “Are they in the castle?”

Lord Mormont glanced to the man beside him before looking right at the dragons. “Benjen Stark is missing and Jon is injured.”

“Injured?” Rhaegar repeated faintly, drawing back his hood.

“Who…” Lord Mormont’s eyes widened even more.

“Rhaegar Targaryen. How was Jon injured?”

“Rh- But how? We all thought you dead, Your Grace,” Lord Jeor Mormont finally asked, after a few minutes of stunned silence.

“I was not.”

“Is Jon okay?” Harry asked.

“His hand was severely burned,” Lord Mormont explained. “Come in, gentlemen. Leave the dragons though.”

Harry laughed under his breath before falling into line with Rhaegar as they followed the men into the castle. Hela, Anubis and Zeus all lay down in front of the gate, their long tails twitching around their bodies.

“Benjen is missing?” Harry asked, as Jeor led them into the keep. They stopped in the center, with everyone looking at them. “Where was he last seen?”

“He had gone out on a ranging and he hasn’t come back,” Jeor replied, gesturing up to the second floor of the barracks. “Jon’s quarters are the second door to the last one. His wolf is standing guard. You should be able to get through.”

“What happened, Lord Commander?” Harry asked, grabbing a hold of Rhaegar’s arm to stop him. Rhaegar was trembling with the need to go see to his son but stopped when Harry touched him, inhaling softly, relaxing. “How did Jon…”

Lord Commander Jeor Mormont stared at him then at Rhaegar. “One of our dead men came back.”

Harry blinked. “A man you thought dead came back through the door or…”

“He was dead. Jon’s wolf found him. Dead and then he came back to life and tried to kill me.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, rocking back on his heels. “Has this… been the only time this has happened?”

Lord Jeor Mormont glanced past the gate to where the dragons were. “We had a deserter a few months ago, before Lord Stark went south. You should ask him what the deserter said. You can ask Jon. He was there when the deserter was executed.”

Harry nodded before grimacing. “Let me know if anything like this happens again. Or if I’m unreachable, let Lord Stark know.”

Jeor Mormont nodded and gestured them up the stairs to Jon’s room.


	8. Chapter 8

Rhaegar followed Harry up the stairs to… his son’s room, watching out of the corner of his eyes as the dragons curled up outside the gate. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and stopped when Harry did, peering down at the white wolf that was sitting right before the door. The wolf… direwolf… sat up and looked up at them, blinking its’ red eyes.

“Hey, Ghost,” Harry whispered, stepping up to the door and knocking.

Rhaegar hesitated a moment before reaching his hand down and letting the direwolf sniff him. Ghost reached out, took a sniff of his open hand then stood up, peering at the door.

“Ghost?” Rhaegar echoed questioningly, watching as the wolf peered at him.

Harry glanced at him, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “He’s the only wolf that doesn’t make a sound and he’s white.”

“Makes enough sense to me,” Rhaegar said, his eyes drawn to the door and the young man beyond it. “Jon.”

They waited a few minutes before Harry knocked again, eyes narrowed in concern.

“I believe Ned named him that because he was close with Jon Arryn,” Harry offered quietly.

Ghost stood up and peered at the door then scratched at it.

Harry eyed the door and Ghost then nudged the door open. “Jon? You okay? It’s me, Ser Potter.”

Rhaegar followed Harry and Ghost in, closing the door behind them, his eyes automatically drawn to the young man on the bed. Jon. His son. His heart ached for little Aegon and Rhaenys and Elia but he would deal with the Lannisters later. Now… Jon was tossing and turning on the bed, clutching his left hand to his chest. Ghost trotted over and jumped up onto the bed, lying down at the foot of the mattress. Rhaegar stayed by the door, waiting for Harry’s okay.

Harry walked over to the bed, pulled the chair that sat by him closer. “Jon?”

Jon slowly turned over on his side, his black hair ruffled by sleep, but didn’t wake up. Rhaegar watched as Harry made a low noise of consideration as his green eyes gazed at Jon’s left hand like he could see the wound underneath.

“Looks like it was a burn,” Harry muttered. “Jon?”

The young man let out a low groan and finally opened his eyes, his Stark grey eyes. Rhaegar could clearly see Lyanna’s features, the Stark eyes and hair. There was nothing Targaryen about Jon.

“Ser Potter?” Jon croaked out, his voice shaky with pain. “What… what are you doing here?”

“I… It’s a long story,” Harry answered, as Jon sat up. “Mind if I look at that wound of yours?”

Rhaegar watched as Jon was about to nod, hand halfway extended towards Harry, when he saw the stranger in the room.

“Who are you?”

“He’s…” Harry trailed off, glancing at Rhaegar. “He’s a Targaryen.”

“Aye, that much is clear. Who is he?” Jon asked, staring right at Rhaegar with narrowed eyes.

“I… am your father.”

Jon’s eyes widened so much that Rhaegar thought they would fall out of his head. A strong gust of wind buffeted the room, making the wooden shutters crackle. An owl hooted, loud and eerie sounding.

“What.”

“He is Prince Rhaegar Targaryen,” Harry spoke, reaching out to hold Jon’s hand and slowly peeling off the bandage that was wrapped over it.

Rhaegar came closer and stopped at the edge of the bed, watching as Jon stared at him.

“But… I thought…” Jon trailed off, his eyes narrowing. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“Yes. I was not. King Robert held me captive in the black cells of the Red Keep,” Rhaegar explained slowly.

“Your wound… How did you get it?” Harry questioned.

“I had to throw a lantern at the wight,” Jon said without taking his eyes off Rhaegar. “That doesn’t even explain how you’re my father. And who’s my mother then? Wait. It was Lyanna. My aunt on my father’s side is actually my mother?”

Rhaegar sighed but nodded. “Your mother is Lyanna Stark, yes. She gave birth to you at the Tower of Joy at the end of the Rebellion. I did not kidnap her like Robert and the others thought. She went willingly with me.”

Jon continued to stare at him.

“Your wound’s all healed,” Harry interrupted, frowning. “Jon, when did the wight attack? Was it just this evening?”

“Just a few hours ago, after dinner,” Jon said, his eyes narrowing. “You didn’t kidnap my mother.”

“No. I suspect Robert was blind to her dislike of him. He would not have seen her strength and steel underneath,” Rhaegar replied gently. “What do you mean his wound’s healed?”

“It’s all healed. That’s exactly what I mean,” Harry spoke.

Jon finally tore his eyes away from Rhaegar to look at his hand and blinked. “It was a severe burn just a few hours ago. What does that mean?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he removed the rest of the bandages from Jon’s hand and stood up. “Magic is coming back to Westeros. Along with dragons. It might be that… I need to think.”

“Magic? Dragons?” Jon echoed, staring at Rhaegar again. “You’re really my father?”

“I am. And you are Prince Jon Targaryen, not Snow.”

Jon’s eyes widened again, his jaw dropping. He drew his legs into his chest and stared at them both. Ghost shuffled over to his side, nosing into Jon’s hands. Jon placed a hand on Ghost’s body and started to pet the wolf but still stared at Rhaegar and Harry.

“You married Lyanna?” Harry asked, glancing at Rhaegar curiously.

“I did. Right before I left to go fight at the Trident.”

“I’m… your heir?” Jon asked, his voice faint with disbelief.

“Yes.”

Jon dropped his head into Ghost’s fur and Harry’s lips twitched up into a small smile.

“Get some sleep, Jon,” Harry said, walking over to Rhaegar’s side. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Harry urged Rhaegar out with a hand at his back and the last thing they heard as they left the room was a quiet, “I’m really a Targaryen?”

 

* * *

 

 

The Lord Commander lent them two rooms in the guest quarters. It was still late, roughly a quarter past midnight, so Harry checked on the dragons before slipping into bed. It was quiet except for the noises of booted footsteps on the walkway, the whinnying of horses and the occasional roar from a dragon.

He was about to fall asleep, his eyes mostly closed, when he heard his door open and then close quickly. He blinked and saw Rhaegar’s silver hair. The man stopped at the edge of the bed, peering down at him a little sheepishly.

“Rhaegar?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Harry studied Rhaegar, seeing his haunted eyes and curled shoulders and lifted the furs up. “You’re safe here. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you. They’d have to get through three dragons first.”

Rhaegar slowly walked over to the other side of the bed and slipped under the furs, lying on his back. “I keep remembering the cells and how dark they were.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat at Rhaegar’s admission. “You’re not there anymore, Rhaegar.”

“I don’t know if Jon will like me.”

“We’ll see. It is a lot to take in,” Harry whispered, as Rhaegar turned on his side, facing away from Harry. “I took a few hours to process that I was a wizard when I was ten and one. He’ll get used to it.”

Rhaegar turned back to face Harry, looking him over. “You hadn’t learned when you were younger?”

Harry shook his head. “No. My parents had died and I was left alone with… non magical people, my aunt and uncle. My parents were wizards but my aunt and uncle were not and they hated that I was ‘different’.”

“I have never heard of wizards or your kind of magic.”

“I was born in a different world,” Harry offered quietly. “In that world, there were wizards and people who were not magical at all. For wizards and witches, there were schools that kids went to, to learn magic. Spells and charms and the like.”

Rhaegar nodded, yawned a little. “Is transforming into a panther one of the spells?”

Harry grinned. “It’s called the animagus spell though for each person, it’s a different animal. We should get some sleep, especially you.”

Harry watched as Rhaegar turned on his side again, away from Harry. He watched as Rhaegar shivered once, perhaps the memory of the cold cell staying in his mind even after they talked. Harry stared at Rhaegar before making up his mind and slowly shuffling closer to the other man and curling around him.

Rhaegar stiffened before Harry slowly started to rub circles into Rhaegar’s back. Slowly, Rhaegar relaxed into him, even leaning into him a little. Harry’s eyes closed as he fell asleep, tucked up against Rhaegar’s back.

  


* * *

 

 

Jon woke up the next morning to the dawn, the misty sunlight streaming through the window. Ghost was curled up next to him on the bed, his red eyes blinking awake. “Just a strange dream, Ghost.”

Ghost peered up at him, stood up to stretch.

“I’m not really the son of Rhaegar Targaryen. It was just a dream,” Jon muttered, sliding off the bed and throwing on a black tunic, leggings and a cloak. His stomach growled and Ghost's ears perked up at the sound. “But why would I dream about a long dead Targaryen prince… Mayhaps I’ve read too many of Maester Aemon’s stories or listened to too many of Old Nan’s tales.”

“C’mon Ghost,” Jon murmured, walking over to the door and nudging it open only to stop at the sight before him. Ghost padded over to his side, quiet and calm, and peered up at him, his red eyes glinting with amusement.

Dragons. One gold one was sitting perched on the western wall of the castle, one dark blue dragon was flying above them and the last, a dark green one was perched on the eastern wall of the castle. Though the green dragon… was peering southward, Jon noted distantly. The sun shone down on all three dragons, making their bodies shine.

 Jon stared and continued to stare as he saw Sam coming towards him out of the corner of his eyes.

Sam’s eyes were wide too as he stopped next to Jon. “I know, huh? Dragons.”

“What… what happened last night?” Jon questioned, staring up at the dark blue dragon that was circling in the sky above them. “What year is it?”

Sam snorted, gestured to the mess hall. “It’s still 298 years after Aegon the Conqueror won his throne. We haven’t traveled back in time, Jon. Let’s go get something to eat. Grenn said that the Lord Commander is there and that we have guests.”

“Guests?”

“A northern knight and…” Sam trailed off, staring at Jon and then turning to look at the gold dragon that was still on the wall. The dragon roared out, a plume of golden fire leaving its’ mouth. “Everyone’s saying that Prince Rhaegar Targaryen is alive and is sitting in our mess hall.”

Jon blinked, remembering his strange dream from last night. His left hand twitched and he brought it up to look, seeing no bandage and no wound. Sam blinked and peered over it too, his eyes widening. “What in the seven hells is happening to me?”

“Jon?” Sam’s stomach growled and they watched as the golden dragon moved, almost gracefully moving down from the wall and leaping into the courtyard. The horses that were tethered in the yard whinnied in fright, some rearing. The men who took care of the horses all cursed and ran over to calm them.

“I had… a dream last night,” Jon started, eying the few men of the Night’s Watch that were trying their best to avoid the dragon, walking around it to go to the mess hall. “Prince Rhaegar was in it and… everyone’s saying he’s alive?”

“That’s what Pyp and Grenn are saying,” Sam said, staring at Jon. “Let’s go and see what the fuss is about.”

Jon nodded and followed Sam, still staring at the dragons. As they walked down to the yard and towards the mess hall, the golden one turned its’ long neck and head towards them. The dragon’s red eyes focused on him and Jon felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, as he bore the brunt of the dragon’s attention. Sam stood frozen next to him, almost quivering with fear. Ghost stepped just barely in front of him, holding his ground.

The golden beast blinked its’ eyes, stretched further towards him and inhaled deeply. Jon kept still as the dragon sniffed him, its’ heat radiating from its’ body. His world narrowed to the dragon and himself, his heart beating so very quickly.

“You are my son.”

Sam yelped at the words and Jon started, watching as the golden dragon in front of him pulled back. The man who had come up to them was not a member of the Night’s Watch and was not a man that Jon had seen before, except in what he had thought was a dream.

Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.


End file.
